Flipped, Book 1
by tkelparis
Summary: The Ninth Doctor saves two people at Henrick's. One is Rose Tyler. The other is a man who will change the Doctor's life forever. Written for tardis mole's birthday in 2012. Not a Real Person Fic, FYI. (The original prompt from TM? "The Doctor and Donna in a situation that's never been done before." Hence the categories.)
1. A Dream or a Nightmare?

**Title**: Flipped, Book 1

**Rating**: heavy T, for author's paranoia and uncertainty about rating rules

**Author**: tkel_paris

**Summary**: The Ninth Doctor saves two people at Henrick's. One is Rose Tyler. The other is a man who will change the Doctor's life forever. Written for tardis_mole's birthday.

**Required Disclaimer**: The summary should be enough to tell you I own nothing.

**Dedications**: My good friend tardis_mole, for helping me discover my talent at editing and for being an inspiration. You've challenged me to go beyond what I previously thought I would like, and so this is the farthest I've gone from my comfort zone so far. Who knows where I'll go next? ;D

And another important shout-out: sykira, whose LJ post about John Barrowman's comments about how Doctor Who could eventually go was the ultimate spark for this idea. Thank you, you treasure! :D

So I suppose that means the ultimate blame for this lies with the Barrowman. I can only imagine what he would think, although I suspect he would _heartily_ approve. :P

**Author's Note**: Originally spawned from a different idea that split into three, this is a new version of one of those ideas revived as a birthday present. And it's spawned a significantly AU version for what I hope will be a Christmas present. If my NaNo story doesn't sap my writing energy for the rest of the month.

The original prompt from TM boiled down to this: "The Doctor and Donna in a situation that's never been done before." Ask and ye shall receive, my friend. :D Happy birthday! :DDD

**Special, Critical Disclaimer**: I refuse to be held responsible for any $2000/₤2000 lattes, spit-takes, fainting spells, workplace/school gaffes, falling against/from things, or any other distracted spazzing off that might happen if you're not careful while reading this story. Especially in certain chapters. Read at your own risk. (I put this in because I was warned by one of my betas, cassikat, that my emails should come with a spit-take warning. So I'm looking out for y'all. ;D)

**FYI (mostly for American readers)**: At the time this story starts, March 2004, the age of consent in Britain was apparently sixteen. That's been since, I believe as in the start of 2005, changed to eighteen everywhere because of medical information on unintentional sexual injuries. And there are multiple opinions on what happened between Rose Tyler and Jimmy Stone, the person she left school because of. Here I decided to go with cassikat's idea, which you'll see in chapter 3. :)

Also, this is not a RPF. Gender swapping, yes. So don't be confused by how this was categorized. :)

**Flipped, Book 1**

**Started September 10, 2012**

**Finished November 18, 2012**

**CHAPTER ONE: A DREAM OR A NIGHTMARE?**

Rose Tyler groaned as her day at Henrick's dragged on even longer with the guard handing her the lottery money. All she'd wanted was to go home after earning enough to buy a few new things, and now she was being ordered to assist with something she had nothing to do with at all?

The rules about working at a shop grated her. She'd appreciated the lack of attention except at the register when _she_ shopped, but now? She wasn't to talk to customers unless they approached her first, and she had to spend a lot of her time alone – putting away new things, straightening after others, and just keeping her eyes out for shoplifters.

She often had to remind herself of why she sought the job in the first place. So she could buy more often, and on discount – just so she didn't have to deal with how skint her mother was with money. Not that she paid attention to what her mother spent to keep a roof over their heads or food in their kitchen. That didn't matter to her, or concern her.

She grabbed the bag, and barely avoided giving the other shop girls glares for quietly snickering at her misfortune. She marched over the to lift, hoping she didn't look as frustrated as she felt - even if there were no men around she'd like to impress.

Sighing as she got in the lift, she wished once again that she'd been assigned to the men's departments. Then she could at least practice her flirting smile.

The lift seemed to drag on, and she frowned. Wilson had better be right down there. She wanted to go right back up and straight home! End this day! The only nice thing about it had been meeting silly Mickey for lunch.

Hmm, she thought. He was acting rather confident over the last few years. He'd even declined to give her the things she wanted for her birthday, one thing in particular. What _was_ his problem? If a girl wanted to celebrate her reaching legal age by having sex, didn't her boyfriend _owe_ her that?

Mercifully, the lift opened before she could vent silently any longer. She stepped out, and looked around. "Wilson?" No answer. What?! She headed for his office. "Wilson, are you there? I've got the lottery money." She stood outside and rattled the door. "Wilson? Listen, they're closing up the shop. I need to get home." Still no answer. "Oh, come on-"

She cut herself off as she saw someone approach. But it wasn't Wilson. No, Wilson was much older than this bloke. As he stepped into the better light near Wilson's office, Rose's eyes drank him in. He was tall, skinny, wearing a smartly tailored brown pinstripe suit, and he carried a tan over-the-shoulder messenger bag. His features were on first glance a mishmash, but Rose quickly realised that they actually worked to make him rather handsome. His brown hair was a fluffy mess that she wanted to run her fingers through. This day was looking up!

She lifted her free hand to brush back her hair, but he cut off her from speaking, his tone annoyed. "It's locked? He's not there?"

The accent was rather delicious. Not one of the ultra posh ones she admired on the telly, but it would _more_ than do for a girl from Powell Estates. She _wanted_ him. If she could get Hot Messy Hair to focus on her a moment, she was sure she could have him. "Wilson? No, and I'm supposed to give him the lottery money." She held up the bag, then flashed a flirtatious smile. "What are you doing here?"

He frowned, throwing her off as he glared at her with his deep, dark eyes. "I was helping locate spots to put new portable defibrillator units that could always be charged and ready. Wilson was showing me locations throughout the building and I was assessing them. He went off for the loo, and just as I finished checking the last spot in question I heard-"

A clattering was heard down the way. Along with a banging sound.

He frowned in that direction. "I heard a noise like that," he added, not looking back at her. "Wilson hasn't answered me. I even checked the loo. Can't tell if he was there." He walked toward in the direction of the sound.

Rose blinked. Never before had she been unable to catch a man's attention like this! She hurried to catch up. "So what do you do?"

He groaned. "Do you think you could actually focus here, miss? I need to find Wilson and talk to him before this shop closes tight and locks us in! Something might've happened to him!"

As he spoke, they reached a door. There was something or someone inside making that noise. "What's he doing in there? Why isn't he answering?" Rose asked.

He shook his head, looking irritated, and opened the door carefully. "Wilson?" He flicked a switch and the lights turned on, moving closer to them while he stepped inside. "I'm done here, and one of the shop girls has the lottery money for you!"

Rose followed him into the room, frustrated. "I'm nineteen! I'm a woman!"

He snorted, looking around a long moment. "Nineteen is still a child in this age. If you _are_ that old," he added as he turned to stare pointedly at her.

She gasped. He couldn't have guessed, could he?

Before she could protest, the door slammed shut behind them. She ran to it, him catching up as she reached it. They tugged together, making no progress. "Come on! This isn't funny!" Rose shouted.

He backed off, and Rose turned to see him rubbing his neck and gritting his teeth. "There wasn't anyone there to close it. No shadows. Nothing." Turning back, he walked a few paces away. "Something's wrong."

Rose laughed. "Come on! That's silly, isn't-"

Another clattering noise. They both stiffened.

She walked by him, irritated that someone was getting in the way of her flirting. "Who is it? Is that someone mucking about?!"

He scoffed and passed her to face her down. "We have a missing person! Can you show a bit of concern for-" He cut himself off, as if something behind her caught his attention, making his face slacken.

Seeing him pale, Rose turned. Her mouth went wide when she saw a jacket-wearing mannequin lean out of its alcove and step out toward them.

She backed away, forcing her interest to back off too. "Heh... you got us, very funny."

She didn't notice him looking around, or how his mouth fell as more noises sounded.

The mannequin, now followed by others, kept coming. "Right, I've got the joke! Who's idea was this? Was it Derek's?"

"I don't think this is a prank." Hot Messy Hair grabbed Rose's hand, dragging her with him toward some corner. She stumbled over some boxes, but he quickly helped her to her feet and further along.

Rose smiled gratefully at him, but he didn't seem to notice. He was focused on checking where they were going and what the mannequins were doing. She looked back, and went sheet white as she saw they were closing on them. She quickly moved closer to him. She thought she felt him shiver as they moved through the tight space, trying to avoid tripping and being caught.

But one mannequin got close and raised its arm – as if to strike her. Rose closed her eyes, hoping the handsome man would be able to save her.

Suddenly Hot Messy Hair sucked in a loud breath and jerked, which caught Rose's attention. They both saw a man with short hair in a leather jacket. "Run!" he told them, dragging them both out. They heard water and steam burst behind them.

Rose, her hand now in this strange Leather Man's, ran alongside him. Hot Messy Hair was on his other side. They ran through the corridors, through plastic barriers, past mannequins trying to break out of their cages and to another lift. She looked behind her and saw the mannequins running after them. Suddenly she was pushed inside the lift. Hot Messy Hair followed, and Leather Man entered, closing the doors.

Only one of the mannequins got its arm in, and the others all tried to push their way inside. Leather Man grabbed the arm, fought with it a long moment, and yanked it off. The doors shut, and the lift began to move.

Hot Messy Hair beat Rose to speaking. "You tore its arm off!"

She blinked. She had been going to say 'his' arm.

"Yep," Leather Man said. "Plastic." He turned and tossed the arm to Hot Messy Hair, who caught it and stared, moving it around in his hands to look it over. Like he was trying to solve some mystery.

Rose shook her head, taking in Leather Man. He was a little shorter than Hot Messy Hair, with trousers very like his jacket, and a dark red jumper. His features were stronger, and his nose and ears bigger, but that didn't matter to her. He, too, looked very interesting – in a very different way. Although what she'd just escaped from begged for an explanation. "Very clever, nice trick! Who were they then, students? Is this a student thing or what?"

Hot Messy Hair's eyes widened as he stared at her. She didn't understand why it looked like disbelief. But Leather Man turned around slightly, asking, "Why would they be students?"

Rose shrugged. "I don't know."

Leather Man shrugged. "Well, you said it! Why students?"

"'Cause..." Rose had to think a moment. "...to get that many people dressed up and being silly... they gotta be students."

"Oh please!" Hot Messy Hair scowled at her. "You honestly think that's a lot of students? Those can't even be student dwarfs! Only they could fit into something that size and look so much like mannequins! But I'm betting those weren't students of any kind! What kind of a daft bint are you?!"

Rose's jaw dropped.

Leather Man smiled at Hot Messy Hair. "You're right. They're not students."

Hot Messy Hair frowned at him. "Well, what _are_ they? And where's Wilson?"

"Who's Wilson?"

Rose interjected, "The chief electrician."

The doors opened as Leather Man announced, "Wilson's dead." And exited.

Rose was shocked, but not too much to fail to notice Hot Messy Hair look angry. "Dead?!" He followed him out, and Rose trailed behind. "Did you do it?!"

"No. Mind your eyes," Leather Man added as he pushed them both out of the way, did something to the lift controls with a pen-like thing and caused a small explosion. Rose opened her mouth to protest, but she didn't have the chance.

"What are those things?!" Hot Messy Hair demanded again as Leather Man walked off, and followed closely. Rose had to catch up as he continued, when Leather Man didn't reply, "Oi, mate! You owe me an answer!"

Rose opened her mouth to protest, What about me?! Only she didn't get the chance to speak.

"They're made of plastic. Living plastic creatures." Leather Man ignored the disbelieving looks as he led them along. "They're being controlled by a relay device in the roof. Which would be be problem if I didn't have this." He showed off something Rose didn't recognise, waving it a little.

"Wait, is that an explosive device?" Hot Messy Hair suddenly paled again.

Leather Man frowned at him, losing the smile. "They must be stopped, and this is the only way since I don't know where the source command is coming from." He waved the device at them both. "So," he continued, leading them up some stairs to another door before either could protest, "I'm going to go up there and blow them up, and I might well die in the process. But don't worry about me, no. Go home, go on! Go and have your lovely beans on toast." He shoved Hot Mess Hair outside as he spoke, and forcefully guided Rose – still utterly stunned – after. "Don't tell anyone about this, because if you do, you'll get them killed." He shut the door on them.

Rose looked at Hot Messy Hair, who was spluttering and shaking with indignation. Even though her shock, she thought the reaction looked rather cute on him.

Suddenly the door opened again, and Leather Man stuck his head out, making Hot Messy Hair go silent. "I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your names?"

"Rose," she answered almost right away.

The Doctor nodded with a smile. "And you?" he asked Hot Messy Hair.

Rose watched as Hot Messy Hair pursed his lips, eyes darting back and forth between her and the Doctor. He seemed uneasy, hesitating before he answered, "David."

Finally! She had a first name for him!

The Doctor grinned. "Nice to meet you, Rose and David. Run for your lives!"

"Oi!" Hot – no, David! – shouted before the Doctor could close the door again. "I have to get to my car!"

Pausing to think a moment, the Doctor nodded. "You have four minutes." And he shut the door.

David's face looked like he was biting back a _very_ colourful oath. "You heard him! Run!"

"Wait!" Rose grabbed his arm. "Can't you give me a ride home?"

He groaned. "Fine! Now come on, shop girl!"

Rose had to give it everything she had to keep from being left in the dust by his running. "Slow down!" He must do it to keep in shape, a shape she wanted to know more about.

"I'm not getting caught in whatever that is! And I am going slow!"

She bit back a complaint. It wouldn't help her. Only catching up would.

He led her to the garage he'd parked in, and quickly up the stairs. Rose was agog at the Mercedes he raced toward. It looked pretty much new to her eyes. Not that she had any time to appreciate it. He used his remote to unlock and rushed inside. He quickly dumped his bag and the arm in the back-seat. Rose got in as he buckled in and started the car. He pulled out as soon as she closed the door. "Seat belt!" he hissed, changing into drive and going as fast as he dared.

They were out of the garage with only seconds to spare. He quickly drove into the street, which required him to go past Henrick's. As he drove by, they heard an explosion. They whipped their heads back and saw the roof of Henrick's going up. Followed by another explosion.

David sped them away, just like every driver on the road did. Rose couldn't stop staring backwards, even after the blaze was out of sight.

She failed to notice a blue box sitting incongruously on the side walk. Or that David's eyes flickered to it briefly.

/=/=/=/

He was silent for the drive over except for when he asked for directions. And she was taking her time in giving them, as she wanted to spend more time with him. But he seemed to be having none of that. "Name of where you live?" he demanded again.

She blinked. She'd tried being sweet with him, but he would just ask another direction. This time was a command, which did sound lovely in that voice. Even if he was being snappish. "Powell Estate," she slowly admitted.

He exhaled, which sounded a bit like she did each time her work ended. "Rose, with this car, I'm going to stand out like a neon sign in an open field. You'll need to get out as soon as I pull up. Got it?"

Oh, this _would_ look extremely posh to her community – how many were dropped off in a Mercedes, after all? But she wanted to have such a thing at her disposal. "Could we meet again and talk about what happened? He didn't say we couldn't talk with each other."

"I'm going to assume that he meant talking _at all_ about it," David interjected, sounding very impatient. "There!" He spotted a sign and made the turn.

Rose exhaled heavily. Damn, she was hoping for more time with him. She needed to be able to snap him from this annoyed state, a chance to show him how well they might suit. She just felt like they would.

He pulled up and parked outside the entrance, not turning off the engine. "Right. I'll wait to see that you get inside the gate. You'll be fine. Bet you've done it before."

"Um... thanks." Taking a breath, Rose leaned in to kiss his cheek.

He held up a hand sharply. "Oi! No! I've been hit on _many_ times when I didn't want the attention. By women of course, but also men, which forced me to stop going to the gym. But never by a teenager! How old are you really?!"

She pouted. "Won't you come in?"

He cringed. "You _are_ a teenager. I've got to be more than a decade older than you. Not quite two, but close enough to it 'cos I'm guessing you might be sixteen. Your mum would slap me and she'd have every right."

Rose grimaced, paling. Her mum might, she realised. And damn him for guessing right, even if she wouldn't admit to it! Not until she _had_ to. "I'll say you helped me get out of there."

"You figure out on your own what you want to say to her, you probably already do it! Just leave me out of it!"

Pouting, she got out in a huff. If he was going to be in that much of a snit? Fine! She slammed the door and strutted away, hoping that swinging her hips would catch his attention and make him change his mind.

Except as soon as she opened the gate, he took off. She whipped her head around and saw him turn the car around, trying to not look like he was rushing away.

Rose watched the most interesting man she'd ever met drive off. Why did she have to meet both him and the most mysterious man she ever saw in the same night – and they both shoved her off?! Pouting again, she closed the gate behind her and slowly walked to her mother's flat, wondering where she went wrong in her flirting.

She had to get the better of this. There had to be a guide somewhere. Maybe she could sneak a look in the morning off Mickey's computer, get his help in getting library access. Then not let him see what she was borrowing. That'd be embarrassing!


	2. A Noble Physician

**CHAPTER TWO: A NOBLE PHYSICIAN**

The telly would be all about the explosion, so it remained off inside the house. The washing machine ran in another room. In the living room, the messenger bag sat on the sofa with the plastic arm still stuck inside.

David stepped out of his bedroom, freshly showered, hair still wet, and in regular clothes: jeans and a geeky t-shirt with strings of ones and zeros on it. You either had to understand binary or be informed to know that the number sets stood for 'You are stupid'. Given what he'd dealt with before coming home and how badly it fried his usually high patience, it seemed fitting – even without an audience to appreciate it. Hell, he usually wore these shirts for his own pleasure – not for anyone else's. Unless it was a geek meeting of some sort, and then it was almost a challenge for who had the best t-shirt.

He grabbed a pair of thick dark-rimmed glasses off the counter and put them on. So few noticed upon meeting him that he wore contacts. Being near-sighted was a right pain in the neck, and he wasn't yet willing to undergo the lasik treatment to fix it. Sometimes he preferred glasses, and they gave him an air of authority that he was willing to use if need be. He preferred these glasses to the thin gold-rimmed ones his mother insisted he wear for dates and professional occasions – he was a geek and he was fine with that, thank you very much.

He paused to ruffled the fur of his Red Setter, who was resting from an earlier run with his friends. The only way he'd been able to get her was proving that he could arrange for the needs of a big dog. He was grateful he'd secured a house with a yard – he wouldn't have been able to adopt her, and they had practically bonded from the day he met her. "Long day, Curie, long day."

The dog watched him, eyeing her master's down mood. She followed him downstairs to the kitchen.

He pressed his mobile to speaker and dialled voice-mail. He opened a can of food for Madame Curie as the machine informed him that he had no new messages. He cut it off, exhaling in relief. "Fewer things to deal with." After barely escaping from Henrick's and having to drive a flirty teen home, he was not ready to deal with any nagging from his mum.

Soon enough, Curie – as he usually called her, unless she was in a snit and then it was just Madame – was happily munching away at her meal while David made quick work of the sandwich he prepared. He glanced around at the few photos out: the day his first patent had been accepted, him with his parents and grandparents at university graduation, sitting on his granddad's knee up the hill as a little boy, working with his dad on random little inventions in the family shed, and the first science competition he won – at age four. Good memories, and yet tonight he found them not so comforting.

When he finished his meal, he paused with his napkin in hand. "You're lucky," he commented with a smile at the dog. "Nothing ever makes you feel you need to rush eating or anything."

The dog continued eating, like she hadn't heard him.

"No insane expectations of you, your meals are brought to you, and you don't have to worry about the needs you can't take care of because you have me." He sighed, wiping his mouth. "You'd never want to trade places with me."

Curie looked up at him, looking like her eyes had narrowed. She stared at him for a long moment before going back to her meal.

David laughed. Her responsive nature had been part of why he got her. "Yeah." He picked up the plate and put it in the dishwasher. Closing it, he paused. "But while we both have to deal with family trying to decide our lives, I have the choice to say no, even if the consequences are unpleasant," he muttered softly, remembering lunch today.

"_Come on!" Sylvia Noble insisted, shaking her head at her son. "Just one lunch. That's all I'm asking. Is that too much to expect of you?"_

_They were at a cosy restaurant near the hospital where she worked. It was a nice time for all five of them to get together: David, his parents, and his mother's parents. The cheerful mood had evaporated in David's mind as soon as she brought up this new idea. "Mum, not another one, please." He dropped his head in his hands._

_She frowned darkly. "David Andrew Noble, you'll be 33 years old next month. You're more than mature enough to be married and have a family. And you have the money for both – you wouldn't have a house big enough to start one without it. Why are you so picky?"_

_He exhaled sharply and propped his head with his hands. "In school, I was considered too geeky to catch any girl's eye. Remember? Most now only look at me because I'm successful. The ones who've seen me for me, I haven't yet found one whose goals fit mine. I can't name one girlfriend who came close to a match for me." Well, he could, but he wasn't going to bring up Nerys right now. Not given that her choices were still a sore topic for her family._

"_You're too picky, making too many assumptions. That's the problem with your generation. You place all sorts of expectations on your partner – realistic or not – and are surprised when they're not met."_

"_Sylvia," her mother, Eileen, chided. "He is a unique person, and needs a special girl. He'll find her, I know it."_

He sighed, grateful for his granny's intervention. He'd avoided another blind date, and none of the previous ones had gone well. It was aggravating how much his mother's nagging about his future was getting worse.

Not that he was a disappointment. No, she _boasted_ about him every chance she had. It was now the concern that all parents seemed to have, he'd noticed: seeing their children settle down and have a family.

And he would. If he could find the right woman. Never mind that he had his own ideas about what she would look like if he could have his way...

"God, I need a distraction!" he snapped.

Curie looked up from her meal, tilting her head at him – all unseen.

He strolled into the living room, and stopped when he saw the bag with the arm still in it. He'd forgotten about that!

Suddenly, the words of his granddad from earlier that day came back to him:

"_My boy, your best trait is your curiosity," Wilfred Mott said when his daughter and her husband had already departed. "Never stop looking for knowledge, never stop asking questions. I'll bet that'll be the way for you."_

He raised an eyebrow. Here was a distraction.

Soon he was in his study, placing the arm on his work table, which had all sorts of dents and discolourations from years of experiments and projects. The arm was motionless. How, he wondered, could it have possibly been part of something that could move on its own? What could the properties of living plastic be?

He turned his computer on, the big one he couldn't take with him anywhere. He typed several different prompts in the search engine, thinking carefully about each one, but nothing seemed to suggest that plastic could become alive. Several rounds of poking and prodding and zapping with the tools on hand told him nothing. Even cutting into it with a knife produced nothing but plastic – very tough plastic, but mere plastic nonetheless.

Giving up, he scowled at the arm. "What the hell was going on at Henrick's? And what was that Doctor on that he truly believed plastic can be alive? They had to be robots!" He ran a hand through his hair, bringing it down to rub his neck. "I wonder if he made it out alive," he added sombrely.

David stood and walked to the door, but stopped. He looked back at the arm. So much was still a mystery. "What if he wasn't completely bonkers?"

The idea of that arm becoming animate, like in Bed-knobs and Broomsticks (the book and the movie – the original version, thank you kindly – were treasured memories from childhood), alarmed him. He remembered that glove trying to strangle Mr. Brown, and had a vision of that arm somehow doing the same to him.

He rushed in, grabbed it and moved it to another table. This was his crafts table, where he put together model items to relax or occasionally drew a bit. He'd added ways of holding items down without getting his hands messy. He grabbed some heavy-duty G clamps he'd saved from some exhibition from his childhood, and used his power screwdriver to hold one end down with some metal screws. Then he placed the arm down, and fastened the other end of the clamp so that the wrist was held in place. He quickly did the same further up the arm. Taking no chances seemed the wise move.

Snorting when he was done, he shook his head. "Named the 'beloved wise noble'. Wish it felt fitting today."

He turned and shut off the lights, closing the door to remind himself to end this day.

Had Curie not followed him in his before bed preparations, she might've heard the tiny and odd noises coming from that office.

/=/=/=/

The mobile's alarm went off. David's hand slowly reached out to silence it, and he yawned. Blinking as he felt something on his chest, he realised that he'd fallen asleep reading on the sofa. He'd had the urge to reread Bed-knobs and Broomsticks to relax, and had barely finished before he dozed off – apparently. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes until he heard a small whine by his side. "Okay, Curie, let me go first," he mumbled. He pushed himself up and went to the loo.

A bit later, he opened his door and led her back inside, carrying the paper with him. He'd thrown on a hooded sweater with a zipper running partway down the front over his clothes since there was a bit of a chill. "You'll get a longer walk later," he chided her – tossing her a narrow-eyed look through his favourite glasses – as he closed the door behind them. "I need to eat, and I think you do too."

Curie made a noise that sounded like a dog's version of a snort.

"Oi, don't get cheeky with me!" Her rather responsive nature was part of what appealed to him when they met, why he made the effort to adopt her.

She looked up at him as if to say, And you're surprised?

Soon he was leisurely finishing breakfast while reading the paper. Curie had left hers behind and laid over one of his feet.

He closed the last section and groaned. "Same news, different names."

Suddenly Curie's head popped up, and she rushed off.

David frowned. "What?! I turned off all the equipment! Is the computer acting up again?"

Then she barked, loud and frantic.

He blinked. "What the hell?" He pushed himself up and walked out of the kitchen.

But he stopped when a noise by the door caught his attention. The cat flap installed by the previous occupant, which he'd closed to keep strays out, was shaking. More to the point, all of the screws were loose – if not already on the floor. His mouth dropped. He couldn't think of anything that could explain that, or the odd noise that sounded familiar. "One moment, Curie," he called out as he walked to the door. A check of the peep-hole showed no one standing on the other side. Someone wearing what looked like a leather jacket was kneeling instead.

Wait, he recognised that head. He quickly unlocked and opened the door. Sure enough, it was the Doctor! "What the hell are you doing?" he snapped, ignoring – for the moment – Curie's continued barking. "And how are you alive?!"

The Doctor blinked, stunned. So he did what he usually did when stunned: ask questions. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked first. How did you survive, what are you doing here and how the hell did you find me?"

Standing, the Doctor shrugged. "Following a signal. Had no idea I'd find you. This is where you live?"

"Yeah." David blinked. "And wait a bloody minute, how did you loosen all those screws from the outside?"

The Doctor grinned and held up his pen-device. "This does many things." He glanced at it, and frowned. "Wonder if I got the wrong signal."

Curie barked even more frantically.

"Your dog's trying to tell you something," the Doctor remarked, moving past him into the hall and heading toward the barking.

David groaned, but checked to make sure the Doctor was alone. Seeing no one, he closed the door and rushed after him. He found the Doctor going into the study, and they both froze. Curie was barking at the craft table, where the arm was twitching so violently it made the table shake. His mouth fell open.

"Hmm." The Doctor eyed the clamps. "I'm impressed those are holding out against that movement." He ignored the now silent dog, who was staring between him and David in disbelief, and walked right up to the table.

David snapped his mouth shut, trying to recover his voice, but was silenced as he saw that pen-device held against the arm. It made weird high-pitched noises, and Curie instantly curled against him, whimpering in distress.

"Sorry," said the Doctor, not looking away as he changed the cadence. "Sonic frequencies. Might be a bit much for her."

But the arm stopped moving, and the fingers twitched for a long moment before going still. David blinked as he rubbed Curie's head – when she slowly rose to sitting – to comfort her. "What the hell is that?!"

"My sonic screwdriver." The Doctor aimed it at the screws and they moved themselves open. "Don't usually use it for that, but it works." He freed the arm and tossed it in the air. He looked at Curie. "All done, dog."

Curie barked at him, looking cross.

Her owner smirked over the Doctor's surprise. "Her name is Madame Curie."

The Doctor shrugged. "Good name. Are you a scientist?"

David nodded slowly. "Medical inventions."

"Ah. That explains that business card I see on the other desk. 'Dr. David A. Noble. Medical Inventor. A physician and an inventor. Must keep you busy.'" He nodded. "Good luck, then. And fantastic effort in keeping the arm contained. It might've caused a lot of harm otherwise. Goodbye."

Eyes wide, David held out a hand. "What?! You're just leaving without an explanation?! I restrained that thing because I wasn't chancing it moving on its own, and you're not going to even bother giving me answers?!"

"Yep." The Doctor pushed by him, walking out of the home within moments.

Jaw dropping, David stared a moment. Then he rushed for his keys and opened the door. Curie shot out first, and for once he didn't call her back. Instead he closed the door behind him before running.

The Doctor was stunned that Curie caught up to him within moments, creating an odd-looking dance as he tried to get around her. She couldn't stop him from moving forward, but she did slow him down a lot. Was she trying to herd him back to her human?

David ran to join them. "Listen, mate," he snapped, catching his breath. "I don't know where you learned your manners, but it's rude to leave people without explaining why they were in a life-or-death moment that shouldn't be possible. I studied physics, and what happened just now and last night is impossible according to everything I know."

"Your information is incomplete." The Doctor tried to move around them both.

David groaned and slapped him upside the head.

The Doctor whipped to face him. "_Oi_!"

David raised a finger, almost in the Doctor's face. "Since I went to Henrick's yesterday to help Wilson figure out where to keep constantly charged defibrillators on each floor, I have gone looking for him when he went missing, endured flirting from a teenager who thinks she's the best thing since the discovery of alcohol, been attacked by dummies, shunted aside when I demanded answers, and forced to give said teenager a ride home which she took as a chance to flirt more with me. I spent my night trying to figure out how that plastic can move on its own, lost a lot of sleep to the thought that it could do that again, and just watched you disable it with a tool I've never seen before. I think I've earned an answer from you, you plonker!"

Curie watched, sitting in front of them with her tail still.

A long pause followed. The Doctor weighed David's words, and finally exhaled loudly. He glanced around and pointed at a nearby park. "We'll sit at that bench. Shall we?"

Ah, David thought as he let his lips quirk in triumph, you've figured out that you might have trouble shaking Madame, if not me? Good. He let the Doctor lead.

Moments later, they sat. David – suspecting Curie would need more exercise – had grabbed a loose branch on the way over and caught her attention with it. When she perked up, he tossed it. As she raced after it, he turned to the Doctor. "Why the hell won't you explain things? Has it never occurred to you that leaving questions unanswered makes people more inclined to ask them? And who the hell are you?"

"I told you, I'm the Doctor."

Figures, David groaned silently, that he only answers the least important question. "Doctor what?"

"Just the Doctor."

David narrowed his eyes. "_The_ Doctor?"

He grinned and waved with the arm. "Hello."

"Am I supposed to be impressed by a mere title?"

"Oi! I chose my title well."

Curie came back, and David tossed the branch in a different direction. "But what's your real name? You must have one."

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. He knew there was pain in his eyes as he looked off in the distance. "I haven't used it in ages. I _can't_ use it."

David blinked, pondering what might be the source of the agony. The last time he saw anything like that, he was learning about post traumatic stress disorder in soldiers coming home from war. Filing that away, he changed the topic. "What are you, a member of some secret police?"

He shrugged. "No, I was just passing through. I'm a long way from home."

'Home' sounded like somewhere in the north to David's ears. Perhaps York or even Nottingham. That thought made him want to make sheriff jokes, but he refrained. He thought about a few options for questions, and settled on something on another topic altogether. "Did I make a mistake in taking that arm home? Might that send whatever... controlled that after me and anyone who's near me?"

The Doctor shook his head. "It was after me, not you. I suppose I should've kept it in my hands rather than toss it to you, but I needed both hands free."

David snorted. That wasn't what he remembered. "At least you didn't toss it to the daft bint," he muttered. Shaking his head, he quickly added, before the Doctor could do more than open his mouth in question, "Then I don't have to worry about another one of those coming after me coz I happened to be there last night?"

"No. The only reason it might have crawled its way back inside had you tossed it was that you met me."

This time Curie set the branch down and put her paws on it as she sat. A 'done' signal, so David just stroked her fur - even as he glared at the Doctor. "You're acting like the world revolves around you."

"Sort of, yeah." The answer was casual, since it was – in a way – the truth.

David laughed out loud. He ignored the Doctor's silent indignation. "Oh my god! I've seen people full of themselves before, but you're the first who's al-but swimming in it!"

The Doctor scowled and looked away.

Getting himself under control, David continued his line of thought. "Okay, so somehow plastic can come alive. Haven't you reported it? There have to be some authorities who can handle it. Who else knows?"

"No one."

That made him blink. "No one?" he echoed quietly. "Not _one_ person?"

"Well, who else is there? You're a intelligent man. How many people do you know who spend their whole lives eating chips, going to bed and watching the telly?! Ignorant of the human concerns all around them – never mind not knowing that all the time, underneath you, there's a war going on!" 

That gave David pause. He pursed his lips, then shook his head. It was making no sense at all. "Start from the beginning. What the hell is behind those mannequins moving on their own? Where're they from and what do they want?"

The Doctor's face couldn't hide the frustration he felt as he evaluated how little he could get away with telling. Obviously it would be more than he wanted, given the intelligence and persistence he was dealing with. "It's called the Nestene Consciousness. Its home-world has been destroyed, so a new one is needed. It projects life into plastic items. For some reason, mannequins are ideal. Fitting when you consider its intent."

The details made David's mouth go slack. "Wait, you mean an alien is using radio control?"

"Thought control." The Doctor looked back at David. "They want to overthrow the human race and destroy you."

David felt chilled to his bones. "That's..."

"Hard to believe? But you're listening."

"Only because I'm certain that you believe what you're saying."

"And I'm telling the truth when I say that the more you know, the greater the danger you and those around you are in." He stood. "That's why you _need_ to keep silent." He began walking away.

David watched in shock. He looked at Curie. "Who is he? What is he? An alien?" he whispered to her as he pushed himself upright.

The Doctor stopped, paused, and turned around. "Do you know like we were saying? About the Earth revolving?" He walked back toward him.

David's jaw moved in surprise. "You could hear me. What are you, an alien?"

The Doctor took a deep breath as he reached him, weighing the options before committing to an answer. "Yes."

He couldn't do anything but blink. He'd met an alien who looked human. His granddad would be ecstatic. If he could tell him.

"It's like when you were a kid," the Doctor added, looking at the sky above. "The first time they tell you the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it because everything looks like it's standing still." He looked right at David, having to tilt his head slightly upward. "I can feel it. The turn of the Earth." His eyes became distant, looking away at a point on the ground. "The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling around the sun at sixty-seven thousand miles an hour, and I can feel it."

David had been vaguely aware of these details from astronomy sessions with his granddad, but the idea that someone could actually feel it was hard to swallow. He was a bit startled when the Doctor looked back at him and clasped his shoulder. "We're falling through space, you and me. Clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, and if we let go..."

As the Doctor let go of him, their eyes remained locked in a staring contest – one trying to persuade and the other struggling to piece the puzzle together. "That's who I am. Now forget me, David Noble," the Doctor insisted before walking away with the air of finality.

Curie looked at David, readying herself to run again if he wanted her to.

David just used his hand to silently tell her to stay with him. He waited a long moment, and then stuck his hands in his jeans pockets as he began slowly tailing the Doctor. Curie stayed by his side. Although he was fairly certain the Doctor could not overhear, he remained silent and kept his footsteps as quiet as he could. Meant stepping around some small obstacles here and there, but he managed.

Soon he stopped by a tree as he saw the Doctor step up to a big blue box. "Wait," he whispered to Curie, who looked at him, "I think I saw that last night. Right as I was rushing that Rose girl and me away from Henrick's."

His eyes widened as the Doctor stepped inside the unlocked box and closed the door behind him. "That can't have much room. What's he-? Hang on, that's one of those old police boxes Dad's talked of! When did that appear?! What are the odds that two would exist anywhere around London _now_?"

Any response from Curie was cut off as the wind mysteriously picked up, and a collection of noises David had never heard outside of a science fiction movie floated through the air. Then he realised that the box was fading in and out of sight. Within moments, it was gone, and the noises faded as the wind went back to its earlier state.

David stared with eyes as wide as dinner plates as Curie barked. He rushed forward, Curie on his heels, to investigate.

They arrived at the spot, and he scanned it with his eyes. "There's nothing to indicate that something has even been there. No weight indentations, no dirt outline, nothing." David looked around, seeing that he was the only witness other than Curie. What the hell had just happened?! "Come!" He bolted for home. Curie dashed after him.

In minutes, he burst into his study. Curie stopped at his side when he sat down, bringing his computer out of sleep mode. "He _had_ to suspect that I might follow. Why doesn't he cover his tracks better?!" His fingers itched to start the search engine, and the computer was too slow today for his impatience.

He hesitated a moment over the terms to use. Lips pursed, he settled on 'Doctor, disappearing blue box' and hit Enter. He wasn't sure what to expect – the internet held many unhelpful sites.

So he was very surprised to promptly find a site with the Doctor's photo on it. He looked back at Curie. "For someone who's so intent on hiding, he's _rubbish_ at it."

Her eyebrows seemed to rise, almost mimicking one of his expressions.


	3. Information Hunting and Plastics

**Special, Critical Disclaimer**: I refuse to be held responsible for any $2000/₤2000 lattes, spit-takes, fainting spells, workplace/school gaffes, falling against/from things, or any other distracted spazzing off that might happen if you're not careful while reading this story. Especially in certain chapters. Read at your own risk. (I put this in because I was warned by one of my betas, cassikat, that my emails should come with a spit-take warning. So I'm looking out for y'all. ;D)

**FYI (mostly for American readers)**: At the time this story starts, March 2004, the age of consent in Britain was apparently sixteen. That's been since changed to eighteen everywhere because of medical information on unintentional sexual injuries. And there are multiple opinions on what happened between Rose Tyler and Jimmy Stone, the person she left school because of. Here I decided to go with cassikat's idea, which you'll see in chapter 3. :)

/=/=/

**CHAPTER THREE: INFORMATION HUNTING AND PLASTICS**

The morning after Henrick's exploded, Jackie Tyler found Rose exactly where she was when she left the room to get ready for her day. She groaned. "God, love, you have to go find work! This is just like after Jimmy Stone was arrested! You barely got the rest of your school finished!"

Rose grimaced. "I got it done!"

"Only after I nagged you and you realised that no one would hire you if your didn't," Jackie snapped, pouring herself some more coffee. "And you still don't have your A levels! You can't go waiting around for a man to come along and make things better. You got to do at least some of it yourself."

The younger blonde rolled her eyes. Jimmy Stone had proved to be a criminal in the end, but he'd taken good care of her – paid her meals, given her a place to stay away from her mum, and showered her with gifts. All she had to do was warm his bed and flatter him. Not that her mum had been impressed. Especially once he was caught selling drugs. Rose had lost faith in him only when she discovered that he had other girls on the side. "Come on, Mum! Men are unreliable, but if you can catch one you've got it made."

"Jimmy Stone only picked you because he knew you were easy pickings! Eager for an excuse to quit school, not wanting to work, and looking for anyone who'd be a meal ticket!"

Rose groaned and got up. "I'm going to Mickey's." This was not helping her forget that she'd been rejected twice by hot men last night. Three if she counted Mickey. Well, at least she _did_ have someone she could call boyfriend. If only he'd provide some action every now and then, she thought listlessly. She might have to go looking for a man who'd put out.

Jackie scowled. "You know, you'd better be treating Mickey better since you're not likely to do _better_ than him, he's going places and you want to be there with him."

Jacket tossed on, Rose grabbed her keys. "At least I don't go bringing men into my own bed!" She fled the flat.

Her mother stood frozen to the spot, tears in her eyes. How could she explain to her daughter how much she still missed her father, how she didn't know how to let anyone else in and yet couldn't bear the loneliness?

/=/=/=/

Mickey was relieved when he heard someone knock – his homework was starting to make him think in circles, and he needed a break. He opened the door and grinned. "There she is! Feel better this morning?" He motioned her inside.

She managed a smile, although she half wished he'd give some impression of _really_ wanting to fool around. Jimmy had taught her that she _really_ liked sex, and now that she was legal she wanted to have more fun. Mickey seemed to like her, but this whole wanting to wait thing was getting on her nerves. Especially after the refusal she got last night – twice over! And then he'd just come to check on her, and only wanted to buy her a drink. She was sure he did forget there was a match on, but his insisting that she was too distraught to consider sex hurt. Should she give up on getting any from him? "Can I use your computer?" Maybe she could find that Doctor, or better yet David.

Mickey looked at her. She was behaving oddly even accounting for being in a snit. She seemed a bit frustrated, and he suspected that his words last night were – in her mind – part of the reason. Like it was a bad thing to want to wait. "Looking for a job or for information about who to talk to about the fire?" Anything would be better than her still focusing on Jimmy Stone.

Oi, how stupid did he think she was? She scoffed, not wanting to disclose her motives. "Something like that."

"Want some coffee or tea?"

"Yes, but only if you wash the mug."

"Oi!" he interrupted, not liking her implications or the memories of how he used to be. "I'm washing them! You can see for yourself! I've been learning about making a good impression."

Rose's sceptical eyes went over the room and spied several books on computers and programming. She didn't remember any of that. "What are those?"

"My university books."

She picked up one and noted the bookshop label. Her mouth fell open. "When did you get into the Open University?! I didn't know you're going there. How can you afford it?"

"Actually, I'm guessing you don't know know how it works. The Open University sends your books as part of each course you sign up for. And the courses to qualify me for enrolment were free since I wasn't even 19 at the time."

Rose blinked. "But... how did you get in? Can you afford it?"

Mickey's proud grin grew. "Well, I was heading to there about three years ago, trying to practice how I might handle the interview, when I saw this bloke having car trouble. I stopped to help him out – it was going to need a shop visit, but I could tell him exactly what was wrong and what needed doing. But it needed a lot, and given how much he should expect to pay for it I suggested he might want to buy a newer one. He was impressed, and it turned out he knew the bloke I was going to see. So he walked with me since he had to wait for a tow anyway. An extra person around should've made me more nervous, but I felt calm in his presence and I impressed the other bloke! Of course when it came down to figuring out the money, I wasn't sure I could manage it – I wasn't confident I could get the loans I needed since I'd run into a lot of biased attitudes, even though I _knew_ I could work the hours to pay them off. But my new friend surprised me. He told me that if I kept my scores up and helped a bit with his business, he'd help me."

Rose's eyes widened. "Wait, he's helping you pay for university?"

Mickey nodded, a bit awkward about it but still pleased. "I hesitated, but he called it an investment in my future. Said he had a feeling that I would do great things with an education, and it'd be an honour to help me reach my potential sooner. Since then, I've designed some programmes for him, and learned a bit about business. So I'm debt-free and on my way to the rest of my life!"

She stared at him uncertainly, trembling inside. What did that mean? Was he going to leave her?!

He hated it when she looked all panicked over a change. "You know, I bet he could help you, Rose. If you ever decide to take those A levels, I bet we could ask him how you could find a job you'd like."

Work never appealed to Rose, so she shrugged. "Computer's in your room, right?"

Mickey frowned. Why couldn't she be more focused on bettering herself? Sighing over his inability to get through to her yet, he nodded. "Just don't read my email," he chided her.

Moments later, Rose sat leaning back in his chair, her jacket over it. Staring at the search page, she wondered how she could find information on the Doctor. Typing that one word got so many results she couldn't sift through them. Sighing as she realised just how common the word 'doctor' was, she tried again – adding 'living plastic' as a term. Still too many things and nothing looked right.

What else could she type? What was distinct about the Doctor? Then she remembered his weird thing that he used like a tool. A pen-like device, she thought. So she tried 'doctor' and 'pen-like device'. At first she thought she saw too many results again – although far fewer than before. But near the bottom of the page, she noticed one website: Doctor Who? Have You Seen This Man? Contact Clive.

Clicking on the link, she knew as soon as it loaded that she'd stumbled on to the right track. She hoped she could get Mickey to drive her if she heard back from this man soon enough.

/=/=/=/

Clive had mentioned that he had another visitor coming to speak with him about the Doctor, so she was prepared to have to speak in very general terms. She was not expecting to find it was _David_, writing things down and collecting things in a folder resting on the bag from the night before. She was _thrilled_ to see him again, and thought the casual look was even more appealing than the suit.

But she couldn't ignore the fact that he seemed dismayed to see her. And what did he mean in telling Clive, "Remember what I said," before the man went into his explanation?

Some explanation! It all seemed like nutter talk! So why was David acting like there was important stuff in there, giving it his complete attention and ignoring her once again?

She waited until, after Clive declared that he believed the Doctor was an immortal alien, David decided he had to go. He suggested she stay and ask more questions, but she was done. Clive had to be insane to believe in aliens and the like. Getting another chance to charm David was far more important – even if Mickey might witness some of it.

If nothing else, Mickey might decide he had to give her some action to keep her. Which she'd take – for now.

Waiting until Clive closed the door after them, she hurried to catch up to David as he jogged to his car. "Wait! We met up again! It's a sign! We should go for coffee!"

He groaned loudly, but didn't answer. He just reached his car and unlocked it remotely, as he did last night.

Rose sprinted. "Oi! Why can't you spare me a moment?!"

David tossed his bag in and glared at her. "Because you act like you're younger than you claim! You're a flipping teenager, but you act like you're a spoiled little toddler! You want what you want when you want and don't care about what it costs others."

She stopped right next to his door, stunned. "You won't even give me a chance!"

"Are you deaf or what?" He stepped into the car. "Leave me alone!" He hurried inside and slammed the door.

Rose had to try one more time. "But-!"

He cut her off through the window by silently raising his hand, forming a fist with his thumb out, and jerking it in short, sharp motions as he refused to meet her eyes.

She squawked, offended. And stomped off.

/=/=/=/

Silently telling her to piss off was perhaps rude, but David wasn't willing to endure Rose Tyler for another moment. He sank into his seat as the girl stormed away like a child throwing a temper tantrum as she was sent to her room. He looked heaven-ward. "That girl's mother is either a push-over or a saint. Bet there's no father in the picture, else he's an utter berk."

Shaking off the disgusted feelings, he pulled the folder back out. He hadn't let on what all Clive had told him about before Rose arrived. Inside the folder were copies of pictures of nine different men who had all used the title 'the Doctor'. There was no way to tell the order:

One curly-haired with huge eyes and a bigger grin – and the wildest hair a pale-skinned person could have. An old, white-haired one with a cane and a slowly-wearing-out late 18th Century suit. One whose clothing looked like a cartoon character's with all the question marks on them. A cricket fan who liked wearing celery. Yet another white-haired one, this time with a cape. One whose clothing violated the eyes just by existing. A dark-haired one who might have been a relative of one of the Three Stooges. Another dressed like a regency gentleman. And the leather jacket-wearing man David had met.

Clive truly did believe the immortal bit, and the alien bit. David was positive of that. The Doctor confirmed the latter, but how to explain all these men who used that title and appeared under strange circumstances?

He heard a car pulling away and glanced up. Rose hadn't seemed old enough to drive, so who took her? His eyebrows shot up when he recognised Mickey's yellow Beetle. Wait, _that_ was the girlfriend Mickey was trying to help improve her own life?! He obviously had no idea what she was up to.

But there was a bigger reason to be worried. The car was driving erratically. Mickey was a careful driver even when he pushed the speed limits. What the hell?! As the car swerved along the street and passed him, David caught a glimpse inside the car. Rose was sitting in the front passenger seat, staring out absently ahead of her – and thankfully not noticing him. But Mickey? Where the driver was, he at first looked like Mickey. But he was grinning too much, didn't notice him at all – which was a shock in and of itself, as Mickey had personally worked on his car several times – and looked awfully shiny.

Eyes wide, David tossed his folder back in his bag and hurriedly started his car. He had to follow, to make sure Mickey was okay. After all, if the Doctor's presence meant something bad was happening, what could that mean for his young friend?!

/=/=/=/

David lost track of the car thanks to a red light. He prayed to anyone who might be listening to help him locate the Beetle, and he did – in a pizza parlour parking lot. He pulled in nearby, and quickly got out – having already hidden his bag under the seat. He remotely locked it and set the alarm, and hurried to check Mickey's car.

Didn't look worse for the wear, he noticed. And nothing seemed out of the ordinary with it. But with plastic coming alive... what did that mean?

Frowning, he went inside. He whispered to the seater than he was looking for someone and could he look around a moment for them? His air of authority, plus a kind smile (that seemed to get him through a lot of annoying situations with a bit of flirting tacked on), coaxed the girl (who was probably a college student earning extra maintenance money) into leaving him be for the moment.

He spotted Rose sitting at a table for two, staring at the utensils and napkins. Her back was toward David. "I could do A levels." She was hardly looking at the person in front of her, sighing after she spoke. "I dunno. It's all Jimmy Stone's fault."

But then David noticed something at he stared at the table, making his eyes turn into saucers. Mickey wasn't Mickey.

"I only left school because of him, and look where he ended up." There was a tightness in Rose's voice, that hinted that Jimmy – or whatever happened between them – was a very bad memory for her. "What do you think?"

"So, where did you meet this Doctor?" asked the plastic being that vaguely resembled Mickey.

Rose didn't even seem phased as she looked at the thing she thought was her boyfriend. "I'm sorry, wasn't I talking about me for a second?"

Before David could drop his jaw over the sheet obliviousness of the girl, Plastic Mickey continued, "Because I reckon it started back at the shop, am I right? Is he something to do with that?"

As Plastic Mickey spoke, David rushed forward, stopping right next to Rose. "Who are you and what have you done with Mickey Smith?!"

Rose looked up in shock, a smile starting to appear. "You followed-"

"Rose Tyler, look at him!" he hissed. "It's not Mickey!"

"I just wanna help you, babe," Plastic Mickey said to Rose, ignoring the interruption.

Rose looked harder. "What are you talking about?"

David al-but growled in frustration. "His forehead is too shiny and those hands aren't real! He's been replaced by living plastic!"

"I just wanna know what the Doctor's planning," Plastic Mickey said. "Do you know?"

"Well, then!"

David turned at the voice by his shoulder. The Doctor was standing there, shaking a bottle of what looked like asti spumante with a grin. The kind that could be passed off as champagne to someone who didn't know better. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just toasting the happy couple. On the house!" He aimed it and blew the cork at Plastic Mickey's forehead.

David watched in shock as the plastic forehead absorbed the cork, distorting it until it started chewing, spitting it out a moment later. Plastic Mickey grinned. "Anyway." His hands transformed suddenly into clubs and smashed the table. David's instincts drove him to drag Rose away from the table a bit. But the Doctor quickly grabbed Plastic Mickey, fighting with it until he ripped its head off – falling against a table from the momentum. The couple there screamed.

Plastic Mickey's eyes opened. "Don't think that's going to stop me." The body began smashing tables again, trying to move toward the Doctor – who just smiled like he knew something others didn't.

David broke the fire alarm. "Run!" he shouted over the noise. "Get out!"

No one needed to be told twice.

The Doctor grabbed David's arm. "Come on!" He pushed him off in front of him before tugging Rose along with him.

They raced through the kitchen, hearing the headless body coming after them rather well for not being able to see. David's rapidly working brain briefly wondered if the body had some echolocation working for it. Still, he was glad to see the outside. He noticed the Doctor using his... what had he called it? Oh, sonic screwdriver. He used it to lock the door.

Rose raced to a gate. "Open the gate! Use that tube thing, come on!"

"This?" the Doctor asked, holding it up. "Sonic screwdriver."

David couldn't believe the alien ignored the banging against the door. He couldn't imagine that door holding out for long.

"Use it!" screamed Rose.

"Nah," the Doctor said. "Tell ya what, let's go in here."

Then David noticed the blue box from yesterday. He blinked as the Doctor unlocked the door. As the Doctor stepped inside, David briskly walked around the box, inspecting its exterior with his eyes and hands. He was hoping to make sense of the thing before he even considered taking what was probably his only escape – stepping inside.

"We can't hide inside a wooden box!" Rose shouted, running closer for a moment before rushing back to the gate. She sounded like she thought it was a port-a-loo.

"You don't know what this box might be capable of," David muttered, not caring whether she heard. He couldn't see anything that could explain what he saw the day before.

"It's gonna get us!" Rose screamed.

Another loud bang against the door, and David sprinted inside. And froze once he was past the ramp.

He heard Rose follow. "Doctor!" she cried, freezing in her steps. Then she rushed back out to make sense of what she saw.

Not that David noticed. He was too busy cataloguing the strange pillars and the central area of the room. Not to mention the humming and other weird sounds that surrounded him. He glanced at the Doctor, who was grabbing things with one hand and holding the head in his other.

It was a disturbing sight. All the science fiction he watched growing up with his granddad didn't prepare him for this moment.

Rose rushed back inside, slamming the doors shut behind her. "It's gonna follow us!"

"The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't break through that door, and believe me, they've tried." The Doctor didn't even look at her. Just continued his actions. "Now kindly shut up, I'm doing delicate work."

David was glad that Rose was silent. It enabled him to walk around for closer looks at all sorts of things. He had never seen such a collection of odd things combined to make something that apparently functioned for travelling. He now knew the Doctor had to be a time traveller, but how could the machine work? He had all sorts of questions running through his head, but he waited for a cue that the Doctor was ready to answer them.

"You see," the Doctor remarked as he worked, "the arm is too simple, but the head's perfect."

"Perfect?!" exclaimed David, distracting the Doctor. "Perfect?! It's bloody obvious that wasn't Mickey! The hair's like a mannequin's, the face was smiling too much, and the forehead was obviously fake!" He glared at Rose. "It took me two hours to find you two once I noticed the erratic driving, and you didn't once think something might be wrong with your boyfriend?! What the hell's wrong with you?!"

She shook under the combined weight of the shock of her surroundings and the tirade. "How do you know him?" she whimpered.

He ignored the Doctor finishing his work – putting his hands in his pockets as he did – to look up at them both, watching the exchange. "He helped me with my car, and I've been helping him with his education and future."

Rose's eyes widened. "Then... you're the bloke he mentioned! But he said you had car troubles."

David rolled his eyes. "Oh, give the girl ten for ten – for once! Yes, I'm the one helping Mickey. I was driving an old Volvo until then. Got the car you were drooling over after that." He took a few measured steps closer, stopping a few feet away from the Doctor. "So have you figured out yet that this place – which somehow I think is alive – is alien, and so is the Doctor?"

Speechless, Rose stared at the Doctor questioningly, and he nodded. "Yes," he answered. "It's called the TARDIS. That's 'Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.' She's a living ship."

Rose began crying from shock, covering her mouth with one hand.

"Culture shock," the Doctor commented. "Happens to the best of us."

David scowled at him. "Okay, explain how those things took Mickey! More importantly, where is he?!"

The Doctor paled. "Oh. I didn't think of that."

"He's my boyfriend!" Rose exclaimed.

"Ooh!" David's outburst was mocking. "You sure didn't act like you had one last night or earlier today, the way you were flirting with me! And now-!" He cut himself off when his eyes drifted to the console.

Rose saw it too. "You're just going to let him melt?!"

The Doctor turned. "No, no, no, no, no!" He frantically worked the controls, continuing his refrain as the ship started making sounds.

"What're you doing?!" Rose shouted.

"Reviving the signal, it's fading! Wait, I've got it..."

David and Rose each braced themselves when the ship rocked slightly. The sounds David heard the day before were now all around him. As the Doctor continued speaking about tracking a signal, David realised that he was about to learn something new about the universe. At least about this ship and what it could do. He came out of his thoughts when the ship landed and the Doctor exclaimed something before rushing outside. David followed, willing to bet it was safer than before.

Rose tried to stop him. "You can't go out there, it's not safe!"

Neither male paid her heed.

Following the Doctor, David slowed his steps as he took in his new surroundings.

"I lost the signal," the Doctor groused. "I got _so_ close."

Rose rushed out, stopping in her tracks. "We've moved."

David had noted that in less than a second. "Near the Thames. Across from the Eye."

"So it flies?" Rose asked.

"Disappears there, reappears here, you wouldn't understand." The Doctor was leaning against a railing, grimacing.

"But," Rose protested, "if we're somewhere else, what about that headless thing? It's still on the loose."

"It melted with the head," the Doctor retorted, pushing off and heading back toward them. "Are you going to witter on all night?"

David grabbed the Doctor's arm, stopping him. "My friend is missing. Can you give me a straight answer about his fate or have you forgotten about him already?!"

"Look, if I've forgotten about your friend, it's because I'm trying to save the lives of every _stupid_ ape on this planet!"

David didn't even think. He just punched the Doctor.

Rose was speechless again, having never seen one man actually punch another.

The Doctor stumbled back to upright. "Oi! I didn't take you for a violent type!"

"Are you _enjoying_ this danger my planet and people are in or something?!"

That got the Doctor's attention. He sighed. "I don't mean any offence to you. It's not my fault that the Nestene Consciousness finds all the dioxins, toxins, smoke, and oil a tasty dinner. I'm trying to keep this planet and its people on track for their future."

Rose blinked. "What are you talking about?"

David ignored her. "So how are you and this ship that looks like one of the old temporary holding cells going to stop it?"

The Doctor grinned. "Anti-plastic!" he exclaimed gleefully, showing off a vial of blue liquid.

"Anti-plastic?" It came almost at the same time from David and Rose. Except David grabbed it and stared at it dubiously. "_This_ little thing?"

"Anti-plastic," the Doctor repeated, reaching for it.

Only David stepped back, trying to study it a moment. "What are you going to do? Pour this over something?"

Sighing, the alien decided to let him for the moment. "No, just toss it on top. Glass will break on contact. But first I've got to find it. How can you hide something that big in a city this small?"

David frowned, not used to thinking of London as small. "What, you mean whatever the Consciousness is using to project life into inanimate plastic?"

The Doctor nodded as he walked a bit away. "Yes, the transmitter. It boosts the signal."

Rose was practically forgotten as David followed, asking more questions. "Any particular shape or size it needs to be?"

"Round and massive, smack bang in the middle of London. See anything that looks like a big dish anywhere around here? We have to be _close_ to it."

Rose hurried to get around the monument the males had passed, and noticed that David's eyes were looking across the Thames. She turned hers in that direction as David asked, pointing, "Would a large, circular London landmark like the Eye do?"

The Doctor looked right at the object that – unknown to him – had been haloing his head, staring for a long moment. Then he turned to beam at David. "Fantastic! Come on!" Then he took off.

"Oi!" David shouted, rushing after him.

"Wait!" Rose cried, bolting as hard as she could to catch up.

David was less than thrilled to have to slow down for her yet again, although the Doctor did as well. But did the alien have to take Rose's hand while they ran? Did the Doctor know so little about human teenagers that he had no idea that it might that give her the wrong idea?


	4. Lives Turned Upside Down

**CHAPTER FOUR: LIVES TURNED UPSIDE DOWN**

This had not been Mickey Smith's day. The homework he had been dealing with until Rose arrived was fine, if frustrating. But waiting outside that internet nutter's place while she was inside? Not his idea of a good day, especially when a neighbour gave him a look that said he didn't belong. Although it had briefly looked up when he noted that Dr. David's car was parked nearby – until that wheelie-bin caught his attention and then... threw him in.

Mickey had since been stuck in a _stinky_ place, surrounded by mannequins that were moving on their own, and staring down at a orange blob that seemed able to talk – even if he couldn't understand it. He was too alarmed to move to check his watch, even though he wasn't bound at anything. They'd waved stuff at him at first, but basically left him alone since.

Then he heard voices that he could understand. Three of them, and then he recognised his own name being called. Dr. David! He rushed to Mickey's stunned side, and Rose was following. Dr. David checked him for injuries and asked about what he saw, in-between a quick explanation of who the Doctor was. The forced calmness was enough that Mickey could manage a few words in answers.

Rose? She spoke a bit about his being okay, but complained that he stank.

Even through his shock, he was hurt by her dismissal. Dr. David started to snap at her, but the weird man they called the Doctor interrupted about keeping domestics outside. He went down to talk to the blob, somehow able to understand its language, and failed to talk it out of whatever it wanted. Two other mannequins grabbed the Doctor, and a blue box appeared on the level Mickey was on. It belonged somehow to the Doctor, and the blob alien saw it as a threat?! It was just a box! How could a box be a threat?!

Things happened quickly after that. The Doctor cried about something transmitting, and the blob started generating something that looked like electricity. Rose grabbed her phone to call her mother. Mickey glanced over at Dr. David, but he wasn't looking at the Doctor or the blob. He was looking back and forth between the moving blob and a vial that he evidently had forgotten he was holding in his right hand, filled with some blue liquid. Suddenly, Dr. David leapt down to the Doctor's level, stumbled to his knees, and tossed the vial over the ledge and onto the blob.

The blob started screaming in what sounded like agony, and the mannequins started twitching. The Doctor threw off the two holding him back, and the two that Dr. David had braced himself to fight off were frozen in their own bizarre dance. The Doctor helped Dr. David to his feet, grinning about being in trouble, and got dragged up the stairs by a _very_ annoyed human.

The next moments passed in a giant blur for Mickey. They were inside the blue box, which was so much bigger than it looked. He heard Dr. David demanding a particular location, and then the box seemed to land. Mickey stumbled out, walking backwards away from the thing. He stopped when he walked into his own car. Where _was_ he? Where had that thing that replaced him taken his car and Rose?! And what was the weird box?!

Dr. David rushed out after him, checking again on him and muttering some reassurances. As wide as his own eyes were, he was keeping a level head. He tended to, which Mickey's frayed nerves _really_ appreciated that moment.

As Dr. David helped him to his feet, Rose stormed out, and started going on about how useless Mickey was 'back there'. Mickey felt his heart sinking. As he leaned against the car, he couldn't believe that the girl he loved was so heartless.

"'Useless'?!" shouted Dr. David at Rose. "He was practically eaten by plastic, shocked out of his mind! Have a little compassion! _You_ were dead weight! I spotted everything the Doctor needed to know about, I helped him save the world when he was being an idiot, and I wasn't the one who _failed_ to notice that Mickey had been replaced by living plastic!"

Mickey was stunned at the outburst, which actually drew him out of his shock. He noticed that the Doctor leaned in the doorway, watching the brewing argument. The man – no, the alien – was acting like it was the most entertaining thing he'd seen in a while.

"How long would it have been before you noticed he was replaced?" Dr. David continued, not letting Rose speak to defend herself. "You didn't until I pointed it out to you! What kind of a daft bint are you? What kind of a girlfriend do you think you are?!"

Mickey might have defended Rose, out of loyalty, but he was in too much shock to protest even slightly. Besides, Rose's behaviour was now _really_ bothering him. Also, he sensed that Dr. David was about to let loose with some more accusations that were true – he tended to do that when he was angry. And when someone in Dr. David's family got angry, you stayed out of their way.

"And another thing: what the hell were you doing flirting with me last night when you have a boyfriend? Don't you believe in monogamy? Besides, if you think for one moment that I could be interested in a selfish girl who doesn't even make the most of her natural talents, you should have a clue!"

Rose was silenced completely, in tears. Not that Mickey was surprised – she'd essentially been called worthless by a man she'd wanted to catch. Of course, he nearly sank to the ground in dismay. He'd thought Rose was his girlfriend, and there she was apparently trying to cheat on him? He covered his face, feeling utterly foolish.

"Mickey," Dr. David said, in a much calmer voice, and catching his attention, "take her home and let her mother know what happened – I bet she needs to hear a lecture. You deserve better than her. Let me bring you round to my grandparents or my mum. They'll introduce you to girls who are already making something of themselves and who would like you. They're wrong for me for various reasons, but one might be just right for you. You're going places, you don't want a girl who holds you back."

Rose choked on a cry, but still couldn't speak.

It dawned on Mickey that Dr. David had another motive in making that offer. He'd once griped about being set up by his mother. Maybe the man figured that his mother would get off his back for a while if she had someone else to focus on. He wondered if he should worried about that.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Right then! I'll be off."

Dr. David shot him a glare. "Going on to the next disaster? Well, try to think about covering your tracks better." He pat Mickey's shoulder, and walked toward his car.

"Unless, uh..." The Doctor took a breath, eyes looking from Rose to Dr. David. "I don't know... you could come with me."

Rose looked at him, perking up slightly. Mickey looked at the Doctor in alarm, ready to protest.

"Oi!" Dr. David whirled around. "You'd be dealing with this girl flirting with you every bloody day! I think she's looking for an excuse to escape her life and doesn't want to make the effort to turn herself into someone who's brilliant on her own."

That made Mickey blink. Had Dr. David not noticed that the invitation was also to him?

The Doctor frowned. "What do you think I am? I'd be a foster father to her. I know she's only sixteen."

Mickey groaned as Rose squawked as if a big secret was out. "Are you _still_ telling people you're almost nineteen? God, your mum hasn't found out yet?" He slapped his own forehead. "Oh, she'll be frightening people tonight with her shouting."

Dr. David glared at the Doctor. "Don't!" He briefly wagged a finger at him. "Her mother obviously needs to take her in hand. You really want to deal with a teenager who thinks she's an adult when she obviously can't handle adult responsibilities?!" He scoffed at the Doctor. "Good luck, mate!" He quickly got in the car, rushing out of the parking lot. The police would surely be there soon.

Mickey watched as the Doctor watched Dr. David left. The alien sighed. "Well, good luck to both of you. Go home before the bobbies show. Have a nice life, both of you." He stepped backward and closed the doors.

Rose started in dismay, and then shock, as the blue box vanished with strange noises. "He's leaving without me?! After making the offer?"

Mickey shook himself. That whole thing was frightening. He sighed. "Come on, Rose. Before we have to explain things."

He had to practically force her inside his car, she was in so much shock and denial. But they did escape before the police could arrive.

/=/=/=/

David unlocked his door, and – after closing – sank against it. What a day – aliens and saving the planet. Did he even dare write about this in his journal?

Glancing around, he was surprised to not see Curie come to greet him. He did see a note on the little table near the door, and picked it up. "Thank you, Emily," he muttered after quickly reading it. "She got her walk and some play time."

Going further inside, he set his messenger bag on a chair as he looked around. "Curie!"

He heard an answering bark – from outside. What was she doing outside? Emily's note was from about an hour ago, so Curie should've been fine being inside. What the hell was going on?

David went to the back door, opened it, and promptly froze. Sitting on the back porch, rubbing Curie's side, was the Doctor. And his TARDIS was standing with her doors open nearby.

The Doctor looked up at him, grinning. "There you are! I've been telling Curie about a dog I had once. A robot I named K-9. I miss him. I wonder how the version of him I left behind is doing. Sadly, I don't know how to find him or the friend he was with." His face fell. "That information was ripped from me," he added, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Can't even use later technology to recover the signal."

David shook his head, ignoring that odd babble. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, since you gave such a _shining_ endorsement of Rose's merits as a possible companion, and even her boyfriend agreed, I chose to wait until a better time to ask again if _you_ would come with me."

David's mouth fell open. "What?! You... you were asking _me_?!"

"Why not? You're brilliant – in all meanings of the word – and you just helped me save the world. I haven't had a friend on board in a long time, and I liked being around you today. Even with the hitting."

That kept him silent for a long moment. Travelling the stars? It sounded incredible... but should he? "I have a career, patients who depend on me, friends and family who check on me – not to mention some inventions to work on. I can't just haul off on a whim."

"Speaking of, what were you doing with medical equipment in a shop building?"

David exhaled sharply. "God, I have to explain myself when you've shattered all my preconceptions about what's possible?!" He leaned against the doorway, and folded his arms. "Do you ever bother explaining yourself and the damage you cause in the name of protecting planets?"

The Doctor started, not used to being challenged so much. "Eh, no. How many would actually believe me?"

David shrugged, sighing as he silently conceded the point. "Fine. I've been developing a defibrillator that's easier to keep charged and usable. I've heard of cases where a unit wasn't available or didn't work properly if it was. I've been speaking with electricians in several buildings to figure out the limitations of my prototype. I know it's an uphill battle, but I want to make it easier to save lives."

There was a lot more the Doctor could have said, but he chose not to. After all, challenging this opinionated human too much would be counterproductive – at the moment.

"And," David continued, "that's why I can't say yes."

"Did I mention that it travels through time?" the Doctor added on a grin.

David frowned. "What, is that your pick-up line with girls? 'Cause it works great for a t-shirt, but not for a reason to go with you. The only woman who might fall for that would be _very_ geeky, and she'd still have questions."

The Doctor pouted and huffed a moment. "I can have you back any-time you like. Tomorrow morning, later tonight – name it. No one will know you left unless you tell them – and telling is a really bad idea, I promise you. I meant it when I said your planet's _not_ ready to _know_ about aliens."

That was a shock, and David didn't know what the hell to think. He blinked rapidly. "What- What the? I... I know you have a time machine, but I do have a job and obligations."

"The TARDIS likes you, and we'll make sure you get home in time."

David glared. "If you make me late even _one_ time, by even _one_ hour..."

The Doctor flinched, thinking quickly. "Then I can have you back within a few minutes of when we leave here. Each time. Want to have an adventure?"

An adventure. When was the last time he'd had one? Before university? Definitely before medical training. God, he needed a life. Perhaps... He took a deep breath. "You get me back within five minutes of when we leave – and by the way, it's March 4th of 2004 CE – and I'll consider another adventure. Which," he added, checking his watch, "means about 9:30 at night."

The Doctor beamed.

"But Curie comes with us while we're exploring."

The smile faded into puzzlement.

David scowled. "What, you can't make space for a dog bed in that big room inside?"

He shrugged. "Oh, there are rooms where she can run around if she likes."

Curie perked at that.

David sighed. "Give me about ten minutes to check on things."

"You won't need much, but do what you must."

"And don't look through my things!"

The Doctor frowned. "You're ruining my fun."

David snorted. "Good." He went back inside.

Watching him until he was out of eyesight, the Doctor turned back to Curie. "Your human has an odd sense of humour, but I think I like it. He'll keep me on my toes. Be nice to have companions once again. The Old Girl will like you, too."

Curie barked. The Doctor grinned at her... until she decided to lick his face.


	5. From World's End to the Dickens

**CHAPTER FIVE: FROM WORLD'S END TO THE DICKENS**

Earth. There was his planet, looking like it had when he knew it. But it was empty of humans, or whatever humans had become in 5 billion years. He was under no illusions that his species would stay the same, that aliens would even look like humans.

Although enough of the ones he saw walked like humans. More than he was expecting.

Still... Tree-people, a small person – who thought spit was a gift – needing a hovering chair to move around, dinosaur-like beings, masked people, blue-skinned... servants, and a human so determined to not blend in or die that she became a sideways trampoline. His mind was spinning.

Enough that he could only focus on the sight outside. He'd needed to walk away from the main area, and he couldn't stand to be surrounded by things he couldn't understand. Not when he had too many things to swallow at once. It was certainly a good thing Curie was running in that garden room the Doctor showed him – she would have not known what to do, and he could only imagine the smells she might have detected.

Had he made the right decision agreeing to come? The question haunted him, and it wasn't comforting to know that his doubts sounded like his mother. Not that nagging seemed wrong to him, but that he was still hearing questions about his off-the-beaten-path choices in his own head was not something that would help anyone's mental state.

"Aye aye!"

The words were his granddad's, but the voice wasn't. He glanced behind him blankly. "Noticed I walked away, did you?"

"Of course. Not always safe for a companion to walk off on their own, and it's your first trip via the TARDIS."

"Then you should've told me first, not head-danced to some song from my childhood." David paused, not commenting on the offended look he got in return. "Oh, wait. That was a cover of something originally sung by a woman, wasn't it? Ooh, that makes the whole thing weirder, even though that was probably the best version." He groaned, shaking his mood off. "Not something I want to think about. I'm in the future, about to see my own planet die."

"There is that." The Doctor exhaled sharply, joining him by the window. "So... what do you think?"

David thought a long moment. Then he thought again before settling on something he could articulate. "I spent a lot of my childhood nights looking up at the stars with my granddad, talking about what aliens might be like. I thought we came up with some crazy ideas, but I never imagined what I'd see today. And that Cassandra, for all her claims to be human, is the most alien of them all. I don't see anything human in her."

Shrugging, the Doctor tried to challenge his thinking. "She's had a lot of surgeries."

"Then she's worse than the most plastic-surgery obsessed people of my time. And I'm _not_ going to go there," he added in disgust. "I wouldn't be able to _not_ comment if I knew them. Why would anyone... _mutilate_ themselves like Cassandra has?! I understand if you have something that really stands out that could be corrected, if there's one feature you _really_ don't like, or repairing the results of an injury – those are _normal_ reasons. She's... I'd rather be dead than live like that!"

The Doctor looked at his disturbed expression and grimaced. "How about we discuss something else, since I can't think of something that you might want to hear about her. What about the others? Or the psychic paper?"

"Oh, that's just weird. I could see the drivel you had it show the Steward. You're gonna be in trouble if you ever run into someone who can resist it."

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. "No one's ever challenged the Psychic Paper before, but how could you see it and yet know it was fake? You must be psychic yourself and have latent resistance."

That was an odd answer, which he'd check on later. "As for the rest... well... I am curious about one thing. How come everyone is speaking in English – in dialects I understand perfectly, no less?"

"No – you just _hear_ English. It's a gift of the TARDIS. Telepathic field, gets inside your brain – translates."

David pushed off the wall, and into the Doctor's face – making his slight height advantage seem like a towering difference with his posture. "And you didn't tell me? How much do you not tell your... _companions_?! Is that just because you're so old that you think you know better in every _possible_ situation?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but wasn't given a chance.

"Another thing, who are you really and where do you come from?" His face and eyes shined with annoyed frustration.

He tensed. "Right now? Everywhere."

"That's _not_ an answer."

"It's the only one that matters," the Doctor snapped, folding his arms. "I belong to nowhere right now. Just to my TARDIS."

David thought about that phrasing. "You mean there are more ships like her?"

The Doctor turned toward the dying Earth. "There were."

The tone said to not ask further. David had heard that before, too. In patients he had seen in medical school, where the past was so painful it was hard to face. He wondered if he'd made the smart move in agreeing to go, once again. "Fine... I won't ask for the moment. But understand this, Doctor: if you insist on a lot of secrecy, you'll drive people away. Including me. I will insist on you leaving after you drop me off."

The look of horror in the Doctor's eyes was unmistakable, and it gave David pause. "Unless you're willing to tell me a bit about why you're reacting the way you are. I took the chance because I couldn't resist the opportunity to visit another planet or some point in either the future or the past, but I'm willing to ignore the urge if I don't feel like I can trust you."

He turned back to the window, shutting down the conversation. He could feel the Doctor staring at him for a long moment, absorbing the words. He let him for a bit, until he couldn't resist a quip. "Take a-"

The platform rumbled a bit.

The Doctor grinned. "That's not supposed to happen."

David's eyes widened. "What?!"

Things quickly went from bad to worse. Three near-death experiences in less than 36 hours was a lot for anyone to deal with, after all.

/=/=/=/

The Doctor walked along Piccadilly Square, looking around. All for one person. It was hard even for him to focus with all the noise and smells and sights of a busy human street. He hadn't seen this much activity around him in hundreds of years. He'd avoided busy places whenever possible, leaving as soon as whatever disaster caused by the Time War had been averted.

He hoped he would find David without looking conspicuous. His new companion had told him to keep away for a bit, to not interrupt what he had to do. So he had... until the worry that David had seen too much was too overpowering and he had to check on him. Trouble was that David and Curie weren't at the house. So the Doctor had to resort to walking. The TARDIS couldn't get him any closer than this.

Fortunately, he found David sitting on a bench, and obviously people-watching. A bag of chips was in one hand, seemingly forgotten even as it was plainly still warm. Curie sat beside him, content as her owner stroked her side absently. She turned and barked pleasantly as the Doctor strolled to join them. "I was hoping to find you," he began.

David slowly looked up, frowning a little. "I suppose being a Time Lord could help you. Maybe the TARDIS tracked me?"

"Well, she's good, but not in that way." The Doctor sat next to him. "I actually had to base it on what I do know about you. Especially since my ship decided to not tell me if she had heard anything you thought."

"Hmm. Nice of her." The tone was disinterested, but a brief smile flashed across David's face. "I told you I had things to do today, so why are you here?"

"I could ask what you're doing here, sitting in a public place when you might be doing... whatever it is you do as an inventor. And don't you have patients?"

"I work with partners, and we arranged so that I have additional time for creating inventions that might help our patients. I checked with the office, and they're fine." David sank in his seat, sighing. "I needed to think, to be around things I know. Things I... took for granted before you showed me how my planet will die."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "You think it'll last forever. People, and cars and concrete. But it won't. One day, it's all gone. Even the sky."

As they both looked up, David found that he couldn't suppress one question any longer. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"Before Jabe helped us save everyone, before she nearly burned and before we knew what was happening, she said something about... how her computer denied your existence. That she knew what happened and that she was sorry. What did she mean?"

The Doctor was silent for a long moment. Could he speak of this? He had said nothing of it since the Moment, tried to not think about it in a few hundred years. Until Jabe reminded him with her empathy. He took a deep breath. "My planet's gone."

"What?!" David squeaked, barely keeping his voice down.

"It's dead," the Doctor continued numbly, still staring upward. "It burned like the Earth. It's just rocks and dust. Before its time."

"What... what happened?"

"There was a war. And we lost."

Somehow, it didn't seem smart to ask who the enemy was. "But... weren't there any other survivors? You might find them someday."

"No, there aren't. I could feel them, but there's nothing. Just utter emptiness in my mind. My people... we could sense and hear each other across time and space. I've had a gaping hole in my mind for 900 human years. My family died on the front lines, none of them safe. Even my granddaughter who married a human man – she and her children were dragged to the war, her husband killed when he tried to protect them."

He wasn't sure why he said so much, but it seemed natural to do so. This man somehow seemed like he could be trusted. Although how far remained to be seen.

David's mouth was completely slack. Of all the things that could have been what kept this alien so private and guarded, his imagination hadn't thought of this. He was silenced for a long moment, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. Now Jabe's words made sense. He forced his mouth to work. "I'm... I... saying I'm sorry feels inadequate, but it's the only thing appropriate to say. Anything else is insensitive."

The Doctor looked at him, smiling ever so slightly in gratitude for the quiet lack of questions. "So... will you consider another adventure?"

David pursed his lips. "I guess you really do need a friend." He slowly shrugged. "Fine, give me a few days to feel that I've settled some things. Then we can go somewhere in the past. Got any rulebooks I should read?"

"Rulebooks?"

"You know, a guide to what to do and say to not make waves. You've travelled with others before. I know I'm not the first person to come aboard. Unless that colourful chest in the corner of the Control Room is yours."

The Doctor flushed. "That was Susan's. My granddaughter."

David noted the tension in the tone. "She was one of yours companions?"

"The first."

And the one whose departure was the most painful, David thought. He looked down a moment, and then at the bag. "If your planet's gone, how do you eat? Can you even handle Earth food?"

The Doctor looked, sniffed the air, and grinned. "I learned over my life. Had two different exiles to Earth, so I've developed a taste for some Earth foods, like chips." He reached to grab right from it.

"Oi!" David drew it away before the Doctor could touch it. "Did anyone teach you about manners? You don't just grab from someone's bag, especially if they haven't offered. And I don't know what kind of germs Martians carry, but I'm no mood to find out personally." When the Doctor al-but pouted, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Let's try this again. Would you like some chips?"

"Yes."

"Then hold out your hand."

Confused and a little offended at feeling like he was being treated like a child, the Doctor did. He watched as David poured about half the contents left into his hand, forcing him to use the other to not let any drop to the ground.

"There. Now let's enjoy the sounds of Earth while the shops are all open. Let's see how much you actually know about blending in."

The Doctor thought about that, and decided to not argue the point. He preferred to just chat with his new friend. "You're bossy."

"Pot, meet Kettle," David immediately retorted, without looking at him, and ate a chip.

That made the Doctor laugh a bit as he ate. Fine, learning more of human customs might even be fun with this friend to teach him. He could live with this.

/=/=/=/

One of the Doctor's favourite things was making companions wear period clothing. Usually it was the women and girls, but the males and boys were sometimes fun. Making this skinny human he now called friend was amusing, and he had needed a good mental laugh. Even the Old Girl admitted that the look on David's face when he was told he had to wear a period piece was a picture.

He wasn't entirely surprised to be waiting – some of the male attire for the 1800s could be rather complicated to put on. Even for someone as intelligent as David. Actually, the self-described geek nature might help him.

He heard footsteps and grinned, looking up. And promptly froze solid.

The TARDIS had gifted David with something that reminded the Doctor of something he hadn't seen in years. Almost exactly nine hundred, in fact. The last time he'd seen that outfit, he was putting it away after regenerating into this current body. Well, it could never have been his Eighth self's chosen clothing – he'd been about .11 metres shorter compared to David. No, the TARDIS had found something close in an evening suit and managed to tailor it to his frame – perfectly.

David groaned. "God, I haven't worn a costume in years. The TARDIS seemed to be telling me to wear this. This seems like formal wear, if all those Victorian era dramas my family watched over the years are accurate. Will it do?"

The Doctor couldn't answer. He was too busy staring in shock at the surprisingly pleasing picture before him. He barely kept his mouth shut – it didn't seem a good idea to admit to that. Humans males of the early 21st century could be rather insistent on what they did and didn't like to hear, and he wasn't keen on driving David away.

Frowning, David looked up. "There's something wrong about it?"

Shaking his head, more for his own benefit, the Doctor managed to grin. "Nope! You look like a gentleman, which will help us get into anywhere we want."

David heaved a sigh a relief, plucking carefully at the edges. "Feels weird, that's all." Then he noticed the Doctor's attire. "Didn't you change?!"

"I changed my jumper!" And he had. It was obvious that David hadn't looked carefully enough.

He scowled. "Next time I have to wear period clothing, you'd better too!"

The Doctor shrugged. Not worth arguing with him. "Fair enough. Shall we?"

"What, are you having me go out first? Should I be worried?"

That made the Doctor laugh heartily before leading his – rather distracting – friend outside.

/=/=/=/

David was happy to be out of the restraining clothes, but even happier to be away from that time. Oh, meeting Charles Dickens was a treat, and he got some questions answered. Yet his joy was tempered by the knowledge that the Doctor hadn't had to tell him – Dickens would die soon after that day.

Although he'd rather think about Dickens and all that the man might have done than what he ultimately saved him and the Doctor from. Today he saw another consequence of the war that the Doctor referred to, the one that destroyed his planet. In a way, it was the Nestene Consciousness all over again. Only this time, it was more sinister than that – this time he'd been fooled, along with the Doctor.

He'd professionally sworn an oath to do no harm, and personally vowed to go beyond that to ensure that he made things better for those he treated. But the Gelth were beyond help – so far twisted by the loss of their corporeal forms that they would lie to anyone they met in hope of crossing over. They nearly succeeded. And no one would ever know how the servant girl tricked into helping them ultimately contained and stopped them.

David left the wardrobe – which spanned several stories, he'd noticed when he first entered it – back in his own clothes and feeling utterly drained. He had supported the Doctor's wish to help, thinking that he could give his alien friend some measure of peace. Instead, it all went pear-shaped.

He shuddered. He hated the phrase more than he hated the fruit.

A familiar whine reached his ears, and he saw Curie strolling to him. "Hi," he breathed, smiling for the first time since he'd watched the look on Dickens' face as the TARDIS dematerialised. He knelt and hugged her, smile increasing when she licked him. The look on the Doctor's face when he'd complained about her doing the same to him make him snicker. Since the alien admitted he wasn't allergic to dog saliva, David told his new friend to quit complaining – it did come off with washing.

He nearly went straight back to the Control Room, but he felt a need to be away from there for a while. Instead, he walked in the opposite direction. If the TARDIS liked him as much as the Doctor claimed she did, then he was probably safe wandering the halls. "Is there a kitchen or anything like it around here?" he asked the ceiling.

The lights flickered off to his left.

Curious, he and Curie followed, seeing the lights stop flickering as he passed them and start further down. He noticed a lot of doors along the way, and wondered what they respectively contained. He decided to investigate this ship a lot more – it was like an entire world existing inside the police box.

The flickering guided him to one of those doors, and he opened it. He blinked. It was a bare bones room, with something in the corner that looked like it might have been the inspiration for the Star Trek food replicators. Although which series was a good question. It did seem a bit larger than he remembered any of them being, even on The Original Series.

He walked around the room. The walls were Spartan, almost completely absent of knick-knacks. There was a sink, but no recognisable dishwasher could be spotted. Cabinets existed, but who knew what was in them. The chairs and table, however, seemed something out of one of those regency dramas that David's mum and gran loved. Especially those Jane Austen adaptations. Or was it one of those Gothic things that Miss Austen poked fun at with one of her novels? Sighing, he looked at the ceiling. "Where the hell do you get a cup of tea or coffee around here?"

"I'll show you," said the Doctor, entering the room.

David flinched as he turned. "Blimey, I shouldn't be surprised that you might turn up anywhere, but you move quieter than my granny's cat."

The Doctor grinned as he approached the object that he overheard David pondering aloud. "I developed excellent reflexes." He pressed a few buttons. "Now, this is my replicator – and yes, somehow Gene Roddenberry found out about them. I usually use it for food replacements, but I use a special setting for boiling water for tea. Had lots of practice, since Earth has a lot of good tea." He soon produced two mugs, and held one out to David.

David stared at the tea for a long moment. It smelled a little different from what he was used to, and he tried to place the scent. It was fruity, but it wasn't citrus or a berry that he really knew. Smelled a bit like what he could imagine raspberry lemonade would smell like if it was hot. His sceptical gaze flickered toward the Doctor.

"You don't have it on Earth," the Doctor explained as he put a plate down and pressed commands into the replicator. "It looks like what's called a Jamacian tangelo or ugli fruit, but smells more like across between raspberry and a lemon. It's from the planet Perahta – that's the transliteration since it means 'glorious' – in the thirty-seventh century." The machine finished whirring and he turned with a plate holding what looked like dog biscuits. "Humans had just made contact with the Perahtans, and their various teas will become famous across the galaxies."

As David watched the Doctor put the plate down near the table, he slowly shook his head. "You know, sometimes I think you're talking complete nonsense."

"Oi, I'll gladly prove it. Try some? It's perfectly safe for humans. More than one of my companions loved it. And before you ask, those are just like what they look like. Go on, Curie."

David frowned, but accepted the cup. He watched as Curie approached the plate, sniffing. She clearly didn't find anything wrong because she took a bite off one of them, and proceeded to sit and eat happily. Sighing, he blew on the steam, and took a cautious sip. His eyebrows popped to his hairline. "That _is_ good."

The Doctor grinned, pleased with himself. But he lost his smile when he noticed that his friend's mood was barely lifted. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I..." David sank into the chair closest to Curie. "I feel like I should've been more sceptical, but I wanted to believe the Gelth. I've never been lied to like that."

The Doctor sat next to him with his own cup. "I've met many liars in my life. I've trusted when I shouldn't have, and barely escaped with my life. I've spent the past 900 years fighting to right the problems caused by the Time War, trying to find survivors. So much has gone wrong... I _wanted_ to believe that I could right something."

"Well, I guess we were fooled together. Misery loves company, I suppose? Better to be happy with others, but..." David drank more of the tea. "What do you to blow off stress?"

"Hmm." The Doctor had to think. "Haven't let myself take breaks. Just go off from one place to the next. If I don't pause, I can run."

David eyed the down-turned mood of the alien. Here was something important. "Running from the loneliness, the memories, or both?"

The Doctor remained silent, shifting in his seat.

David finished his tea, letting the Doctor have a moment to recover. "You've lived as eight men before this one. What did they do to relax? A person can't run on empty. You need _something_ to unwind – a good book, some physical activity not involving running for your life. Is there a gym or something on this ship? Blimey, if there is, I could go and exercise without being bothered! Had to give up my membership 'cause all these bloody blokes and bints kept bothering me. I'd like to learn some new ways of exercising. Got any?"

The Doctor's eyebrows raised, intrigued. He grinned. "Ever heard of Venusian Aikido or what's called Martian Karate?"

David raised an single eyebrow, although the other joined it quickly. "You have my attention."

Ah, the Doctor thought with a grin, this was more like it! What could go wrong with teaching a companion new forms of exercise?


	6. Earthlings and Invasions (of the Mind)

**CHAPTER SIX: EARTHLINGS AND INVASIONS (OF THE MIND)**

David found himself on the floor – again. Shirt soaked with the effort expended over half an hour, he shook his head slowly – not that it didn't make him feel less like a wet dog. He looked up at the alien who'd finally gone without his jacket. "Damn you, Doctor!"

"Oi! Not my fault I have superior reflexes! And you almost had it there. One more go, come on!"

The Doctor's smug look make David feel like he had something to prove. He grunted as he pushed himself upright. "I _will_ catch you off-guard one day."

"Is that a vow?"

"Yes."

"You'll have to develop better stamina first."

"Daft alien! I'm dripping buckets and you're hardly sweating! Next time, we're ditching the shirts for a more equal footing! I'm more soaked than after a good run with Curie!"

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. If that's what you want." He ignored the odd sensations in his heart over the idea of being in less than full clothing around his companion.

David took a deep breath. "This seems like more like tae kwon do, with all the using your opponent's force against them. What planet is this from again?"

"A planet called Dojo. It's an Earth Colony, and the name was actually a nick-name created by the retired soldiers who predominantly settled there. It developed a reputation as the best place to study martial arts in three galaxies."

Scoffing, David shook his head. "Rather spot on."

"You haven't heard some of the names that exist in the universe. Humans are typically to the point about naming things. Just wait and see if we ever have reason to go to Raxacoricofallapatorius."

That made him blink, and nearly forgot his earlier complaints. After a moment, he decided, "I'll hear that story later. You promised me a rematch!"

The two resumed circling each other. The Doctor was looking for weaknesses to teach him about. David was eyeing for anything that he could use against his friend, and decided he was going to wait as long as he had to.

It impressed the Doctor that his friend was so patient. "I'm a Time Lord. I could wait for ages."

"I don't think you're that patient. You'll want an adventure soon enough, so you'll make a move. Only a matter of time."

He glared, but the words hit a bunch of sore spots he hadn't known he had. "Oi!"

"Care to challenge that?" David added a smirk, sure he'd provoked him almost to the point where it would create trouble.

Sure enough, the Doctor pounced. David managed to dodge the first few efforts, but soon the human found himself pinned..

The Doctor grinned, pleased at how difficult David made it to get him to the ground and relaxed his grip. "Once you accept your own limitations, then you'll-"

He yelped when he found himself flipped and pinned. The shock – and disbelief that he'd forgotten how someone could use being lower to the ground as an advantage in fighting – kept him still.

David smirked triumphantly. "Final rule of fighting: it isn't over until it's over. So I won." He jumped up jubilantly. "Point to me!" He went for a towel, pleasantly exhausted. "God, this shirt is weighing me down!" He tugged it off with difficulty, exhaling in relief when he got it off.

The Doctor watched the muscle movement, the sweat lines falling down the body. It held his attention as David nabbed some water and chugged. Why was this so fascinating to him?

"Don't know about you, but I'm knackered. See ya in the morning."

As David walked out, the Doctor realised he was breathing like he was a human who ran a marathon. He paused to run through his body's reactions that he'd lost track of. Pupils were dilated, sweat glands were rather active given how little he'd actually exerted himself, and... worst of all, he had a reaction below the waist that he'd never had before.

Wait, that was... what _was_ it?! His brain slowly kicked in with the answer. In humans that was called an erection. Time Lords had the equipment, but they never had the reaction. Or at least hadn't since the Curse.

But, he suddenly remembered, the Curse was lifted before the Last Great Time War. So even though the knowledge was supposedly lost... evidently the genetic memory of what to do wasn't gone.

The Doctor blanched all over. Oh, Rassilon... it can't be.

Only denial couldn't work for long with emotions this strong. He'd fallen in lust with his companion. His male companion. His _heterosexual_ companion.

Could he keep this from him?

/=/=/=/

It had been a year according to Earth time since the Doctor had met David Noble. If you factored in both the time spent in the TARDIS or on adventures, it was closer to fourteen months. Not something to admit to his family.

Family. Something his past companions and assistants tended to not have. At least not by the time they joined him aboard the TARDIS. This was a first – having to drop the companion off every so often so they could handle things in their life and see their family. David could find something to do or create a reason to be dropped off after each adventure, sometimes only minutes after they'd left. And the TARDIS always arrived when he asked.

That it might be because David had learned to input dates, insisted on imputing them himself, and even helped fly the TARDIS. Not that the Doctor was keen to examine that carefully – his friend was quickly becoming better at flying the Old Girl than he was, and he hated discovering that a companion was besting him at something he'd done for hundreds of years. (That he would admit to.)

He would never admit to how much he liked David teasing him about how he treated the TARDIS – like how could he be stroking her one moment and using a mallet on her the next. Or how much it made private activities that he'd previously thought beneath him necessary to function around his shockingly desirable friend.

And he certainly would've preferred battling more Slitheen than sitting in the living room of Sylvia Noble. This was _asking_ for trouble.

Especially since David apparently couldn't lie to his mother. She could see right through him. And if David could see through his own lies...

"Sylvia, ease up on them! Is it so bad that my grandson's befriended an alien? The Doctor just helped save the planet from another world war!"

On the other hand, Wilfred Mott was a delight. Utterly accepting of his grandson's alien friend, and open to hearing about the universe. Not to mention completely supportive of David's quirks. The Doctor could've done without the virtual hero-worship fascination, but Wilf had only just been introduced to him.

"Dad, as happy as I am to be alive, I'd rather David be home. Why must he spend so much time gallivanting across the universe?"

"Mum," David interrupted, groaning, "I've always managed to get back within moments of leaving. It's not like anyone has to know. Probably should've said something earlier, but I've been taking care of myself."

"But how are you going to find a wife?!"

Sylvia's exclamation caught the Doctor's attention, and made his insides twist into knots. Instantly, his brain kicked in at a billion miles an hour, making connections and evaluations on that sensation. He knew he held lust toward David, but this level of alarm couldn't be accounted for by mere lust.

If David married, he would be leaving the TARDIS... for good. The Doctor would be alone again, even if he could still call David a friend. But if they did decide to travel on board... he'd have to deal with the constant reminders, even though his best friend would still be there.

What was this gutted feeling over the thought? This wasn't the dismay of lust thwarted, it was something deeper. Something more important, like breathing or eating or love-

Love. An emotion he'd felt before. Sarah Jane had triggered it to the point where his own people were alarmed enough to shoot him with a telepathic dart to force him to leave her behind, and they prevented him from going back for her. This gutted feeling reminded him of how he felt after realising all his people had done to him, the sense of what he'd lost.

Oh, Rassilon... he was in love with David. Undoubtedly, knowing how Time Lords saw people, he had probably started falling for him when he challenged him at Henrick's and then _really_ fell the next day. The whole lust thing had come later. Bugger, this was worse than he'd thought – he was so far gone he couldn't bear to think about losing him, yet he would do anything to make him happy.

The Doctor hoped his paled expression went unnoticed. He failed to note that Eileen Mott was looking his way with interest, but remaining silent.

David stood suddenly, startling Curie, who was by his feet. "Mum, it's my life. I'm making a difference in so many lives – that's more important than my own wishes."

That caught the Doctor's attention. Did that mean his friend was giving up on his old dream? He didn't want to admit how that sort of made him pleased to think about it. For a moment.

"Besides, have you thought about how much pressure I've been under to find a wife? I'm coming back more relaxed. It might actually be easier for me, now that I've had this break. Besides, maybe I'll find her on one of the adventures."

Again, the image of someone holding David's hand in the control room left the Doctor's hearts lurching. He lowered his eyes and closed them tightly. Must remain under regulation, he told himself.

"But what happens when you do? You'll stop these travels, right?"

Sylvia's question made the Doctor's eyes pop open. Suddenly, the thought of losing him outright... it was so much worse than having to deal with those constant reminders.

"Mum, I won't abandon a friend. The Doctor needs friends – he's been alone for hundreds of years. Would you have me leave him without making sure he had someone to help him, to keep him company?!"

Syliva stiffened. "I never said that."

Geoffrey took her hand. "Love, I think we need to consider the Doctor part of the family for now. Poor bloke looks like he needs a rest every now and then."

Eileen nodded. "And your father wouldn't let you drive him away."

As Wilf reiterated that thought, the Doctor let his gaze drift again. He supposed Sylvia might turn out to be alright – she did plainly love her child, and wanted her genetic legacy passed on beyond him.

Sylvia sighed. "Fine. But I can't wait for you to have a wife. You know, you could've been married to Nerys. She's a nice girl, you let her slip away."

David rolled his eyes. "Mum, she's married to Emily. _A woman_. I knew before Nerys admitted it that she swings the other way. I just covered for her until she got the courage to come out and say that she wanted to marry Emily. They're happy now and have a family."

The Doctor noticed that those words produced odd reactions out of all four of the other humans. Like some secret was bordering on being said. Sylvia stood, grabbing the kettle to refill it, muttering, "Wish you had a family _you_ could call your own. You make me worry sometimes." With that, she left for the kitchen.

David grimaced, sank back down into the chair, and folded his arms. He shook his head and stared at the ceiling, sighing loudly. Wilf pat his shoulder, and Eileen followed her daughter, clearly intent on saying something. Geoffrey didn't seem to know what to do.

The Doctor wasn't going to pry, but he was very curious suddenly. Why did that produce such conflicted emotions in everyone? And what was Sylvia hinting at with that comment? There was something beyond what was stated.

Sometimes the Doctor hated not understanding humans and their quirks. Would he ever?


	7. Alien and Future Mating Practices

**CHAPTER SEVEN: ALIEN AND FUTURE MATING PRACTICES**

Dealing with a stupid kid who would've been a sucker for a pretty female face? Easy, if annoying.

Dealing with a Time Lord who didn't want to stick around to give important guidance on turning a society back around instead of going on a worse path? And more to the point, refused to stick around despite his own arguments? Aggravating beyond measure.

Dealing with someone who flirted with him _and_ the Doctor – almost in the same breath? That was a new one.

That what was normal on Earth – certainly within the vicinity of London, England – wouldn't be normal on other planets or even on Earth in the future (never mind the past) was something David understood. It was hubris and ego-centric in the worst way to assume that whatever you were familiar with was the right way, the only way to do things. And he had not been disappointed – so many different traditions, and some _did_ alarm his sensibilities. Being spat in the eye by an alien dignitary was decidedly _not_ a high point of his adventures. Still, he tried to keep an open mind.

But he hadn't counted on meeting an alien who looked and sounded like an American from his own time. The person who called himself Jack Harkness was forcing him to reassess many assumptions he hadn't even realised he held.

Although he'd known since he was a teenager that he wasn't gay – not even slightly. Hard to _not_ know given some of the offers he'd received over the years.

Of course, he had gay friends. All sorts of friends. Some of them drove his parents – especially his mother – crazy. He found it interesting that his grandparents were more relaxed about it, but he supposed it was partly due to his mother's drive to raise their circumstances. Appearances and all. Still, his mother had accepted most of his friends ultimately – and even become a strong supporter of some of the "strays" he brought around. Her words, not his or anyone else's in his family.

But then he and the Doctor found themselves in 1940 London, during the Blitz, and running into what the Doctor called a Time Agent – someone who was sworn to help keep time flowing properly. Evidently, the knowledge that the Time Lords couldn't watch over time had been disseminated, and some technology had fallen into the hands of people with some time senses – including the Boe-Kind.

According to the Doctor, they were probably descended from the only known Time Lord and Human hybrid. He'd reluctantly admitted that the human mother had been a companion, and probably hadn't survived the birth – it had been during the start of the Last Great Time War. Something about a lot of manipulation that went into making it possible to freeing the Time Lords from a great curse of sterility.

Now that was something David could imagine driving people crazy. He'd seen it in fellow humans, and he could easily believe that the Curse had stopped all development in Gallifreyan culture and society. Not that he knew a lot, but what little the Doctor did say told him a lot more than he figured his friend knew.

But back to Jack Harkness, as... disconcerting as he could be. Or the Captain, as he called himself. Which told the Doctor, who'd told him when they'd had a moment to speak, that he'd taken some human's identity to blend in. Which had made David worry about Jack's character until the Doctor promised that he fairly certain the alien wasn't a murderer – just probably took the identity of a man who died.

In any case, it was a long journey dealing with a bizarre alien threat to London. Now he understood why Albion hospital was closed down, which his grandfather never had. He wondered if he could tell him. But then it led to discovering that Jack's ship was about to self-destruct, and they rescued him, thereby welcoming him aboard – with the bag of the original Jack Harkness.

All in all, a long journey. And to top it off, Jack was still flirting with both of them. He'd even managed to _kiss_ David... after kissing the Doctor. David had shoved him away in shock, spluttering and wiping his mouth. Jack had been stunned, but danger quickly forced them to focus on other things.

Now that they were all safe, Jack had a look like he wanted to try again. "Watch it, mate!" David snapped, at the end of his rope over the unwanted attention. "I got no problem with you as a person, but you're barking up the wrong tree. Even try to kiss me again and I'll slug you."

Jack sighed, and looked at the Doctor. "Does that mean you'll hit me if I kiss you again?"

The Doctor turned back to the controls. "Not keen on being kissed, thank you. And how do I know you wouldn't accidentally unleash your saliva?"

That got David's attention. "What's so important about that?"

"Boe-Kind have a toxic saliva," the Doctor explained. "They can use it or not. It's enough to paralyse a person. Certainly a human."

"I don't use it," Jack retorted. "Not without cause. Say someone's trying to kill me."

David raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Well... that could be useful. But I don't see why you're flirting with us when I know I also saw you flirting with one of those nurses. What kind of species are your people?"

Jack's eyes lost their light. "Boe-Kind... We're the ultimate result of the only known successful hybrid between a Human and a Time Lord. I believe the human was one of the Doctor's companions."

"Leela," the Doctor breathed, every suspicion confirmed. "What happened to her?"

"It was a rough pregnancy, and the Last Great Time War was starting, so that didn't help. She... lived long enough to see the child moved to the Boe-Shane colony. From there, things slowly worked toward the biology and physiology that I have."

"Which is?" David pressed, medical curiosity engaged.

Jack hesitated.

The Doctor took a deep breath. "The details are intensely personal, and I'm betting a bit shaming to Jack here. If he really comes to trust you, he'll tell you. But otherwise... let's say that a lot of medical intervention was needed to keep the species alive."

"That's one way of putting it," Jack muttered, trying to shake off the sourness of the memories.

David eyed him, puzzled by the mystery, but more than willing to let it be for now. "But why are you not picky about who you flirt with? It seemed like you'd do it with anyone. Isn't that risky?"

Jack forced his mood to brighten. He did have a tough nut to impress. "Boe-Kind are pan-sexual. We can be attracted to any species or gender. In fact, we are multi-gendered as well. It was bred into us to be ready for sex at any moment, and to be ready for whatever our partner needs. And yes, we are _experts_ at protection from disease."

That made David's mouth move silently for nearly a minute. "So... tell me if I've got this wrong. Is jumping anything or anyone that can flirt back a viable mating strategy? Or is that how things are in the 51st century? Sex all the time? Don't feelings factor into anything?"

"Oh, they do. Believe me, we might look like we have flings all the time, but we do best when we have a permanent partner. And love is kind of instant for us."

David's eyebrow lifted over his narrowed eyes. "Love or lust?"

Jack chuckled. "Wise man. We're a bit different from humans."

"Obviously." David rolled his eyes. "Look, perv from a distance if you must, but leave me alone! I'm going for tea. Anyone else want some?"

"Please," the Doctor added, forcing an even tone. "You choose the variety."

"I'll have whatever you two are having."

David groaned, tossed the 'piss off' gesture at Jack, and left the room. He wanted to snap off a witty remark, but he was too fried to think of any.

The Doctor watched and waited for David to be completely out of earshot. This had to stop.

Jack grinned. "He has a cute ass."

The Doctor whirled toward Jack, making the Boe-Kind step back in surprise. "Doctor?"

"I know you can't help your nature on most things, but that's my _very_ best friend ever, and he's _straight_, so I'll thank you kindly for keeping your flirting to yourself! He's apparently dealt with enough advances over his life from gay men. He doesn't need a Boe-Kind openly perving over him."

The words were delivered in the deadliest tone that Jack had ever heard. Not one of his numerous would-be executioners managed to scare him with a tone or a look before. Oh, that last one had been close, but he'd flirted his way into their bed – thus saving his life.

But this was a Time Lord, one of his great-grandfather to the x power's friends. (Or whatever term they used.) He was the last of his kind, a feeling that Jack knew well – although he suspected that a few other Boe-Kind had escaped the final destruction caused by the Last Great Time War. So that meant the Doctor might feel he had less to lose by threatening people who got in his way. This one had all the scent and psychic markings of a person emotionally scarred by war, and thus you needed to be careful to not trigger some PTSD reaction.

So why was he so protective over David Noble? And why did Jack suddenly sense that the Doctor was emotionally unavailable? As in, already taken?

He nodded slowly, and moved away to sit on the jump seat. He started to listen to the ship's sounds, hoping he'd catch some clues that would clue him in. And perhaps give him clues about how to live as peaceably with these two hot men and their sentient ship.

Because he had the feeling that the TARDIS considered David hers as much as she did the Doctor. Which seemed interesting given the human had only spent not even two years travelling. But maybe the sweet ship needed the extra company just as much as the Doctor did.

Well, he could sit and wait for a while. He had the feeling that the human needed some time to recharge his emotional and mental batteries. Not that he could blame him – it wasn't exactly the best of days.

He blinked when a Red Setter appeared beside him. He hadn't heard her coming. She stared at him and sniffed him. "Hello." He extended a hand to let her smell it. "Who are you?"

"Madame Curie," the Doctor answered. "She's David's. I let him bring her with us while we're on adventures."

Jack smiled as the dog let him pet her fur as she rested her head on his knee. He decided to remain silent and think about what might be happening between the dog's owner and the Doctor – giving Curie some attention all the while.

The Doctor was grateful that Jack backed off. Evidently the Oncoming Storm look was enough to make a point, but he had to back it up with words. Good to know that he could make that impression with someone who couldn't help flirting – it did take attention away from Boe-Kind and direct it to others, something that probably was a lingering consequence of the lack of social markers that emerged thanks to the cloning that enabled the Boe-Kind to remain alive for as long as they had.

Now he could focus on flying them through the Vortex. He probably needed to bring the TARDIS to some-place where she could recharge and refuel. Which required rift energy, and a rift that wasn't outrageously dangerous. Ah, he remembered their adventure to Cardiff in 1869. A rift existed there then, and it was probably still there. In fact, the Old Girl had seemed better-off after that trip.

That settled it in the Doctor's mind. Spend a little time in the Vortex, and then refuel by landing and opening the engines to let her soak in the rift energy. Oh, and bring David back for whatever he might need to do. His friend did good work, and it was important to ensure he didn't miss a day. But he had, after a little convincing, arranged to make it look like he was travelling on business – which the Doctor had had to help make believable.

Oi, the hassles of dealing with a companion who had his own life outside the TARDIS. Not to mention a family he had to stay in contact with – and not just because they were still alive, but because he loved them.

The Doctor marvelled at all he put up with to make David happy, to help him reach his goals. This had to be love – how else could he explain how very domestic he practically acted.

There was only one way to be more domestic. Well, more than one, but they tended to be connected in his thoughts where David was concerned. And Jack was now going to ensure he had to wait to deal with the consequences of dealing with thoughts along one line.

But then he flinched at the chance in the TARDIS' humming. He glared at the ceiling, silently begging her to stop it.

The Boe-Kind, having drifted in his contemplation, blinked as he listened to the change. "Hey, Doc, why's your ship laughing at you? What have you done?"

"None of your business!"

Jack was eyeing him carefully, and what he saw made him grin. "Is that a blush I see?"

The Doctor kept his mouth shut. Saying anything might egg Jack on. Not that the Boe-Kind needed it most of the time.

David walked into the room, carrying three mugs and large kettle of peppermint tea. He looked from the Doctor's flushed face to Jack's intrigued expression, and frowned. "Did I miss something?"

The blush definitely grew. "Nothing! So, where do you want to go next? We'll need to visit Cardiff sometime soon so the Old Girl can refuel, but if you need to stop at home first we can arrange that."

Jack's grin turned triumphant. Suspicions confirmed! "You're awfully considerate."

David rolled his eyes. "Jack! Stop harassing the driver!"

The Doctor flashed a relieved smile. He didn't have a clue, and yet he saved him from an ugly moment.

Jack definitely felt he'd pieced things together. Now the Oncoming Storm's earlier warning made perfect sense. Poor Time Lord... in love with a man who was straight. Jack knew the feeling well. In fact, he had two potential people to put him into that situation if he wasn't careful. He stood, giving Curie one last affectionate rub. "I'll be a while. Sounds like the sweet TARDIS needs to soak some more Vortex energy for a while." He gently stroked a railing before accepting a mug of tea from a cautious David.

The TARDIS's sounds changed their tone again.

David blinked. "Is she purring?!"

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor pointed at Jack. "Stop flirting with my ship!"

Jack snorted. "You're ruining all my fun." Still, he nodded at both men and saluted before stepping out of the Control Room. Only Curie followed him after a moment. "Oh, you want a run?" they heard Jack ask. "Well, let's go find wherever you like. Show me."

David narrowed his eyes as the footsteps faded. "He's gone from flirting a mile a minute with me to nothing at all in the space of mere minutes. That's... weird."

"You're complaining about him stopping something that made you uncomfortable?"

He sighed. "It's not like what happened with Rose. She didn't see anyone else's feelings. Not even Mickey's. It's why he finally ended things with her."

The Doctor glanced at him. "And when did you hear about this?"

"He's one of the people I call and see when I go home. He tried giving her one last chance, mostly out of respect for her mum, but she just wouldn't work at improving herself. They were done before the Slitheen invastion. He hasn't mentioned her since." He shook, a little like Curie did after he bathed her. "But enough about that bint. What happened just now? I suppose Jack can't help the flirting in a way, but no one does that big a turnaround without something giant causing it. What the hell happened?"

The Doctor lowered his gaze, hoping he could regain control over his face before David turned back and noticed anything amiss. "Maybe he just realised that it was for the best to leave you alone."

David thought he heard an odd undertone in the Doctor's voice. "Did you order him to stop it?"

Damn, he was too observant when he wanted to be! The Time Lord was just grateful that for some things, David Noble remained ignorant and oblivious toward. "Might have," he hedged.

He groaned. "Damn you bloody Spaceman! I could've handled it myself!"

"Yes, but why should you have to deal with it any longer than necessary? Boe-Kind emit pheromones that can make people do weird things on occasion."

"And I'm pretty sure he's been emitting them full-force toward both of us almost since we met. If neither of us has been taken in by now, I'd say we're both immune."

The Doctor hoped he was right. He knew he personally was immune to Jack's pheromones. As for David's...

David shook his head. "Don't fight my battles for me, Doctor. You don't want me fighting yours, right?"

The Time Lord closed his eyes. Caught again by his own logic!

"You know, Doctor, it just dawned on me. We'd better either make sure the TARDIS distracts Jack, or not have any exercise sessions while he's roaming."

The Doctor had to duck to avoid showing a blush that would surely have been spotted by a blind person. He forced himself to take extra time working with the TARDIS controls, concerned that he'd hit the wrong lever from distraction if he wasn't careful.

"You sure you're immune to Jack's pheromones?"

That brought the Doctor up short. "What?! Of course!" Where the hell did he get the idea that he might be? Hadn't he been watching?!

The force behind the denial made David wonder if the Doctor was protesting too much, but he figured his friend needed prying as much as he did right then. "Are you going to take some tea now, or should I put it in thar cup-holder spot? You've got to have one with all the odds and ends sitting in this Control Room."

He took a deep breath. "I'll take it now. Need something after this day." He accepted the wordlessly offered mug, and took a brief swig. "Thanks."

"Not since my medical school days have I felt this drained. You deal with all sorts of people there, and I saw patients who really tested your limits – and it almost always wasn't their fault they acted the way they did."

"Boe-Kind... and don't tell Jack I told you... also encountered a fair bit of genetic engineering. It's why they have the toxic saliva and the fancy pheromones."

David frowned. "That sounds more like a curse than a help." He looked at the Doctor. "Is he also telepathic and time-sensing? 'Cause he said he could smell that we're time travellers."

"Yes. Gifts from the Time Lord genetics still there. Not that there are many."

"How many generations ago was that? Surely they'd be gone by now. Unless they managed to get more Time Lord genetics in there from donors or something."

The Doctor checked with his ship as to where Jack was, and was satisfied with the answer. Still, he leaned in to whisper. "Just never use the word 'clone' around Jack. Okay?"

David's mind churned over that, and his face slackened. "Oh... damn."

"Yes." The Doctor placed a hand on the console, stroking the side in response to a rumble from the TARDIS.

Eyeing the action, David first focused on what he'd deciphered based on Jack's answers. "So... Jack's like you? The last of his kind?"

"Perhaps. He acts like he is, but he might be like me – holding out for hope that there's a survivor or two he just can't sense yet. No matter how unlikely it is."

David gripped his shoulder in support. "No wonder you're so fond of the TARDIS, and vice versa."

The Doctor looked oddly at him.

"Well, you said you two have a... symbiotic relationship, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then there's a deep love there. After all, you've been together how many centuries? Hundreds, maybe?"

The Doctor squirmed slightly.

"It's okay. I know you must be much older than 900 years old, but I won't pry. Gotta let a person have some secrets, eh?"

It was moments like that that made the Doctor really wish that David could return his feelings. But it was a hopeless cause. Given how much the universe hated him, he'd probably see David's death and still be this daft warrior with the big ears.


	8. Shock and Sacrifice

**CHAPTER EIGHT: SHOCK AND SACRIFICE**

David felt like his head was full of cotton as he came to, and he wondered why he was lying propped up in a chair. He opened his eyes, and saw the Control Room. Wait, how had he got here?

Then memories started floating back to him, a bit at a time.

"_Oi!" he shouted as the TARDIS flew across space. Curie whined as she struggled to stay in one place. "What're you doing, Old Girl?! He needs us both!"_

_The TARDIS didn't answer, except to make what sounded like a apologetic moan that he hadn't known was part of her vocabulary. Then they landed, and David was ready to launch into a rant._

_Except a hologram suddenly appeared in the room. It was the Doctor. David stepped back in shock._

"_David, if you're seeing this, then Emergency Protocol One has kicked in. Meaning either I'm dead, or things are so dangerous that I can't risk your life any further. The TARDIS is or has taken you home to your family, or just to Curie. I put this in because if the worst happens to me, I can't let you die."_

_His eyes widened. But he didn't have a chance to comment._

"_The TARDIS will be in your hands, David. Unless she leaves you to try to come back for me, you are her guardian now. Since you're a bit psychic, you should be able to bond with her more than you already have. Please teach your children how to care for her, because she's all that's left of Gallifrey, my home-world, now. Otherwise she has to be let alone, go into hiding. The world would pass her by, eventually covering her in dust. And I know she doesn't want that, not when she could have people we both trust looking after her."_

_Then the hologram hesitated for a moment, as if the Doctor was grappling with something else as he recorded it. "Oi, Old Girl!" he shouted at the ceiling. "I can't!"_

_But David could hear a whining noise that wasn't coming from the present moment. He realised it was the TARDIS at the moment this was recorded._

_Sighing the Doctor looked back up, which happened to make it seem like he was staring right into David's eyes._

"Good to see you're well."

It was the tense sound of the Doctor's voice that brought more of the memories flooding back. He pushed numbly to his feet. "What... I... Did I really agree to let the TARDIS expose me to the Vortex energy?"

_He sat in his kitchen, staring at his favourite mug. The TARDIS had told him what she thought the whole Healer message that had been following him ever since he'd started travelling with the Doctor. A message from himself... after he'd taken some of the Vortex energy into his head._

_It was dangerous, the Old Girl had admitted, and would be a lot for him to deal with. But, although she had an idea for a plan to save the Doctor and the Game Station, she wasn't confident that there wouldn't be disastrous consequences on the time-lines... unless David basically forfeited his life for his friend's sake. Against his final request:_

"_Don't try to come back. I know you, and you don't give up on friends. But this is important. David Noble, I need you to live, to have the good life with a family that you deserve."_

"You did, you flew her back to me, and stopped the Daleks. Did everything you could to not let them kill, to try to handle it without killing them. Although you had no choice in the end – they would've destroyed more than they did. You were brilliant. Even managed to undo loads of damage."

David looked at the Doctor as another thing clicked. "Wait, if I took all that into my head, how come I'm still alive? I was prepared to die to keep you alive."

_There was no other choice. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't try._

_So he'd rushed through checking that his will was up-to-date, and then he made his taking what he figured would be his final run with Curie. Then he wrote a series of letters – his final requests to friends and family, and the goodbyes he couldn't say in person. They'd all try to talk him out of it, so he was taking what he knew was the coward's way out._

_Writing to Mickey was easy – he mentioned another congratulations over dumping the milestone Mickey had called a girlfriend, and told him to use his inheritance to fund his career and to help him start a family. His parents and grandparents... were informed of what he'd really done for Nerys and Laurie. And those two got their own letter, filled with all sorts of messages to be delivered later on._

_Then he'd locked the house, leaving a concerned Curie behind after hugging her for the last time. Either Nerys or Laurie would be by to check on her, and they'd be the first to find out what he'd done._

_With a heavy heart, he'd stepped in front of the section of the Controls he felt the TARDIS indicate, and watched as the Old Girl opened to him._

_All the time utterly aware that it would kill him in the end._

"I wasn't going to let _you_ die," the Doctor snapped. "I have too few people left. Some are dead, others moved on, and some of those won't want to see me again. Not all of them know about regeneration."

"Wait..." That last word sudden made David notice the occasional golden glow coming from the Doctor's hands. "You're... dying?"

"Yep."

"Why? How?"

The Doctor squirmed. "I... absorbed the TARDIS energy from you when – after you'd done all that could be done for the people of the Game Station – you were losing control over it, when it was about to cause permanent damage that would've killed you."

"How the hell did you absorb it? What aren't you telling me? It went into my eyes, I remember that much. If the TARDIS couldn't draw it back out, how did you do it?"

A blush crossed the Time Lord's face. "Eh, what was necessary. Best you don't remember, knowing your bent."

"My bent?! What's your gob on about? My bent...? Oh you didn't..."

"Didn't what?" The Doctor wouldn't meet his eyes.

David's jaw tried to hit his chest. "You... you _kissed_ me?!"

_The Doctor watched in horror. He couldn't even feel any pride in David's restraint over how he fixed things, carefully saved lives. But when David cried out in pain, sweat starting to run down his face, he knew that he'd lost control – and he could feel that he'd accidentally made Jack immortal. He'd just revived everyone else, but it did far worse to Jack. "You can't die!"_

_David struggled against the pain to speak. "There's only one of you. There're lots of humans. My life is... expendable by comparison."_

"_Not to me it isn'!" the Doctor exclaimed, standing up. This was not how he'd wanted this to go down, but what choice did he have? He rushed over and grabbed David's head. Before the human could register what was happening, their lips were pressed together._

_The Doctor used his mind to draw the energy into himself, and as it did David's body went stiff, ceasing his brief struggle against the kiss. The Time Lord's body began to burn as the overwhelming energy flowed into him and he used it to heal David on its way out. And as the last bits left him, David's body went limp, and the Doctor barely caught him._

_Holding him tightly against him, the Doctor exhaled the energy back into the TARDIS. As she shut her Control panel, he glared at her. _How_, he demanded silently, _could you let him do that, encourage him to do that?_ Because he could sense that the TARDIS had _opened_ for him._

Because_, the TARDIS answered calmly, _I did not dare imagine what would happen if I failed in my other plan to save you and the Station. And he must continue travelling with us. I don't know why, my Thief.

_The Doctor hated it when his ship pulled that on him, but she had never been wrong. Still, he thought as he lifted David – with some effort, thanks to the beginnings of the cycle – into his arms and carried him inside, must leave. Now._

The Doctor cringed at the tone. "It was the only way to save you! I don't regret dying for you! What amazes me is that you came after me. I thought that would be the end."

It took the human man a number of seconds to be able to form words. "You... I'm that important that you'll waste a life?"

"It's not wasting a life!" The Doctor's eyes flashed at him. "You have a life that has a lot of important work left, your time line was not finished. I might not know when the majority of people are expected to die, but I know that yours is meant to carry on for decades yet."

David's first instinct was to carry on with the questions, but he noticed the Doctor grab his wrist, rubbing it as the hand below it glowed briefly again. "Why haven't you regenerated yet?"

He looked up slowly, sadly. "I didn't want you waking to find a stranger in the TARDIS. I almost did that to someone else I loved, and I wasn't going to let it happen."

"You can... hold back the regeneration?"

"With difficulty," he grated.

David paled. "Doctor, is holding it back going to make the regeneration worse?"

The Doctor grimaces tightly. "Yes. Doubt it'll be worse than when my eighth self was born. Or this me. 'Eck, my fifth self had a very bad death. Probably made me into the berk that was my sixth self. Help me land the TARDIS first? I'm trying to get us back to just after when you left."

"Then why didn't you ask me first thing?!" David flew to the other side of the Controls. "What do I need to do?!"

The two spent a tense couple of minutes struggling with the TARDIS controls. Although the Old Girl was trying to cooperate, between getting her energy back and the Doctor losing control over his own body it was like trying to hold back a tsunami. The landing nearly knocked them both to the floor.

"Hah!" shouted the Doctor. "We're here! Right outside your home, just when I said I wanted to go. The Old Girl granted my dying wish."

David froze, blood going cold. "Wait, where's Jack? What happened to him?"

The Doctor shuddered. "You accidentally let too much saving energy into him. He can't die anymore. I don't feel it's safe to regenerate around an unnatural fixed point."

"But... you _left_ a friend behind?!"

"He's going to be fine! I can sense it! The TARDIS told me she sesnes he'll eventually cross paths with us again."

"Doctor, that's nonsense. You don't leave a friend behind. How long will it be before Jack notices this? How's that going to change him?"

The Time Lord cringed, not just because of the pain he was in. A berating from David always stung, and this one hurt more.

Looking as the glowing got stronger, David gulped. "Is it safe to let it happen around me?"

"As long as you don't touch me until after it's done." The Doctor suddenly gasped as the pain got worse. "David, _please_ don't make me leave. I know you didn't want anything more than friendship from me, but I have no one else to turn to. I'm gonna be sick from this regeneration, and there's no one I'd trust more to look after me. Will you?" He couldn't meet his eyes, afraid of what he would find there.

He closed his eyes, hating to see the pain, and took a deep breath. "I went ahead with the TARDIS' plan because I couldn't let a friend die." He opened his eyes to look right at his friend. "And you've been my best friend _ever_. I won't turn my back on you just because you've dropped one flipping giant bomb on me."

The Doctor flashed the most grateful smile in the universe. "Thank you," he breathed. But then it was too much. He exploded into golden light and energy.

David recoiled, stepping back instinctively for his own protection and holding out his hands to shield his eyes. He could only imagine how painful the actual process was, and hoped it would end soon.

He wasn't sure when, but the light finally faded. He dropped his hands to see, and then his face slackened.

"Hello."

Where the Doctor stood before, there was someone entirely different. _Much_ more different than David was expecting given the pictures of his friend's former selves.

And the person standing there, wearing the Ninth Doctor's clothing, heard it. "What?! My voice! It's higher-pitched, and sounds a bit rougher than it was. And why's my clothing so tight now, especially the trousers?! What's this extra weight on my chest?" A gasp exploded. "Oh my god! Boobs! I've got boobs! And they're huge!"

David's eyes nearly popped out when the woman grabbed her chest through the clothing and weighed the new... features. He could only manage one thought: What the hell?!

"Oh I always knew that gender-flipping was possible. Just thought that since I hadn't in all these years that I wouldn't be one of those cases. Ooh, damn, I have to get a whole new wardrobe! I know none of my companions were this size, and none of my past selves' clothing would fit me! Well, maybe some of Peri's blouses would work..."

There was absolutely nothing David could say to that. Assuming he could think enough to talk.

As the new female Tenth Doctor spoke through and shook from the shock, some of her hair fell into her face. Her rant stopped in its tracks. "What's this?" She grabbed the strands to inspect them. "Ginger." She grabbed more of her hair to double-check. "They're ginger." She squealed. "_I'm ginger!_ At last! At _long_ last! Oh, I can live with being a girl if I'm ginger. Eh, with this figure I'm a _woman_ for sure!" She beamed at David, eyes gleaming with the triumph of a long desired wish coming true – however oddly.

David had to gulp. He wasn't imagining things. Now he had to wonder if he misinterpreted his youthful dreams, because now he wondered if he had them just because he was like his granddad – a bit psychic. For this wasn't the first time he'd seen this face or figure... and he wasn't anywhere near ready to face the other possibilities.

**END OF BOOK ONE**


End file.
